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Bale Bicentennial Publications 


CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


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pale Bicentennial Publications 


With the approval of the President and Fellows 
of Yale University, a series of volumes has been 
prepared by a number of the Professors and In- 
structors, to be issued in connection with the 
Bicentennial Anniversary, as a partial indica- 
tion of the character of the studies in which the 
University teachers are engaged. 


This series of volumes is respectfully dedicated to 


Che Graduates of the University 


Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2008 with funding from 
Microsoft Corporation 


httos://archive.org/details/chaptersongreekmOOgoodrich 


CHARPEERS 


ON 


ea oe We ROC 


BY 


THOMAS DWIGHT GOODELL 
Professor of Greek in Yale University 






ABRARY SS 
+ OF THE . 
\ UNIVERSITY } 
\ OF Uy 
SW CALIFORES 






NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD 
1902 


Copyright, 1901, 
By YALE UNIVERSITY 





Published, August, rgor 





UNIVERSITY PRESS + JOHN WILSON 
AND SON + CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 


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KEIZ6@Q2 TEXNQN AE XOI NOMOI KAAQON KAAOI 


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CONTENTS 


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Sit Barra AnD LANGUAGE. . 0°.) 6-38 es eu BB 
RVs. matteo Oe GRERE 6 kite re een BO 88g 
Wer soon, soros,»** Cyrotio”” Freer. 9 os ee ABR 
VI. Compounp anp Mixep Meters . .... . 184 





INDEX . . . . . . . *. . e ° e e e © 247 


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CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 
I 


SCOPE AND METHOD 


It is a mark of a living and growing civilization, in 
contrast with a stagnant or declining one, that in the 
former men are ever renewing the critical examination 
of the fundamental notions. This is true also of every 
separate art or science. From each new vantage ground 
attained the question is put anew about one principle 
and belief after another, supposed to be firmly estab- 
lished: But after all, is it well-founded, is it true, is it 
fundamental? ‘To some people this is disturbing; they 
fancy that the very framework is dissolving and founda- 
tions disappearing. Yet all the while out of the con- 
fusion of decay, in which the outworn vanishes, there is 
growing up a new and sounder life. The questioning 
attitude toward the old is an essential condition of such 
growth; all of the old that is worth preserving finds its 
place in a newly organized and higher type. 

The science of classical philology is in every branch 
of it undergoing that experience. Greek metric is a 
peculiarly difficult branch, because the forms of verse 
are nothing except as spoken, and the ancients can no 
longer speak their verses to us; there is always an 
unknown quantity in our reconstruction of the series 
of sounds which their lines represent. True, a consider- 
able degree of uncertainty or of known error in details is 

] 


2 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


consistent with substantial truth to the more important 
facts of rhythmical movement in the poetry of a past 
age. Our pronunciation of Shakspere’s lines would 
have sounded barbarous to him; yet we are certain that 
with few exceptions we reproduce his rhythm with sub- 
stantial truth, although we have changed the quality of 
the vowels. Yet where the basis of rhythmical structure 
is so different as in ancient Greek when compared with 
modern English or German, it is always possible that 
the unknown element affects the very essence. Widely 
different views have been held, and are now held, about — 
the nature of some common rhythms of Greek verse, 
controversies are rife and lusty. The onlooker may be 
pardoned for believing that all is uncertain and knowl- 
edge unattainable. Yet on the whole the past century 
has seen substantial progress toward the recovery of the 
ancient meters. It is not my purpose to recount the 
history of this progress, or to discuss with anything like 
completeness the opinions now current; but rather to 
offer, if possible, a modest contribution toward farther 
advance. The following chapters will be devoted prim- 
arily to discussion of fundamental principles. But they 
will include also applications of those principles to par- 
ticular forms of verse, in sufficient number to keep the 
discussion as concrete as possible, and at the same time 
leave no doubt as to my notion of the practical bearing 
of the conclusions here defended. 

Such a discussion, to be of any use, must of course 
rest upon adequate acquaintance with what others have 
done; but it need not necessarily be accompanied at 
every step by detailed refutation, or even enumeration, 
of views defended by others, whether at variance or in 
more or less close agreement with those of the author. 
The reader will meet here only the minimum of refer- 


SCOPE AND METHOD 3 


ence to previous writers on the subject. To avoid mis- 
understanding, therefore, a word of explanation is called 
for. 

It should be said at the outset that my motive for 
such omission of references is not in the least a desire to 
conceal my dependence on predecessors or to detract 
from their merits. Closer study of so thorny a subject 
tends rather to raise one’s estimate of earlier work, in 
some cases even of those with whom one can least 
agree. But in the first place every new presentation 
must stand or fall on its own merits; and those most 
competent to judge it, whose appraisal will ultimately 
determine its place, do not need to be informed either 
where I have learned from others or whose view it is 
that I am endeavoring to replace with a sounder one. 
And again, the subject appears to me peculiarly difficult 
to present with sufficient clearness to avert misunder- 
standing. The constant citation of others’ views, 
whether to controvert them in toto or to explain a par- 
tial failure to agree with them, or even to state that I 
have followed them, would have added much to the bulk 
of these chapters, something to their obscurity, and noth- 
ing to their real value. There are then three classes of 
cases, running together more or less, in which I shall 
not always feel bound to give precise references. First, 
the volumes of Rossbach and Westphal, Christ’s Metrik, 
and the section by Gleditsch in Miiller’s Handbuch are 
assumed to be well known; they must in great part 
furnish the basis for any new-comer. Not the slightest 
originality can be supposed to be claimed for anything 
that is contained in any of these. This broad acknowl- 
edgment of my great indebtedness to them will I hope 
be deemed sufficient. Secondly, my presentation will 
sometimes closely parallel that of the scholars just named 


4 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


or of some one else, but with more or less deviation on 
essential points. While no credit is claimed where such 
repetition occurs, omission of such parts repeated from 
others would leave my page obscure, particularly to one 
who is not already quite at home in this field. Simply 
to make my own conception plain at the points where it 
diverges, it will not infrequently be necessary, then, to go 
over again in detail some topic or portion of a topic that 
another has already clearly elucidated. Comparison will 
generally show, I trust, that the deviations justify the 
repetition. But constant reference to the points of like- 
ness and of divergence, as was just said, would greatly 
lengthen the argument and introduce another and most 
annoying source of obscurity. Naturally the more famil- 
iar the reader is with metrical studies the more of such 
repetition will he find. Thirdly, in some cases of funda- 
mental disagreement, which will at once be recognized 
as such, the polemic tone will on principle be avoided 
as much as possible, even to the omission of names of 
scholars who are deservedly honored in the whole philo- 
logical world. 

Considerable space will be given to quotations from 
our ancient sources. To judge from my own experience, 
nearly all readers will be grateful for this. Even if one 
has the books at hand, one grudges the time required 
for looking out the passages. Care will be taken also 
to cite the original with sufficient fulness. Nothing 
more quickly destroys confidence in a writer’s singleness 
of aim than to discover that the full context materially 
changes the aspect of a citation on which his argument 
depends. It may be only his judgment that is at fault, 
not his sincerity; but the effect on our estimate of his 
reasoning is the same. It is better to waste a little 
space by citing at unnecessary length than to commit 


SCOPE AND METHOD 5 


even unintentionally the mistake of garbling. It is good 
policy as well as a duty to put before the reader every 
facility for testing the argument for himself at every 
step. Similar considerations render some repetition of 
my own argument unavoidable, as the same topic or the 
same statement of an ancient author may require exami- 
nation from more than one side. The whole subject has 
been so obscured by misunderstanding that whoever 
writes upon it at all is bound to do his utmost for per- 
spicuity; the repetition involved need not lead to dif- 
fuseness. 

Finally let no one imagine from what has preceded 
that my program includes anything so large as revolu- 
tion or re-creation of this branch of philological science. 
To not a few my conclusions will appear antiquated 
rather than specially new. The whole aim of these chap- 
ters will be attained, if by steadier adherence to certain 
sound principles, that have been too little observed, our 
conception of Greek verse-forms is brought a little nearer 
to the reality. It will be my constant endeavor to see 
things as they are, to avoid polemic so far as possible, 
and to keep an open mind. 


IT 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 


IN our ancient sources on metric there is frequent 
mention of certain differences of opinion between the 
puOuixol (rhythmici) or povortxof (musici) and the 
Merptxol (metrici) or ypaumatixol (grammatici). These 
differences are well known and have been often dis- 
cussed ; yet it will be worth while to examine again the 
more important passages referring to them. The exact 
chronological order, even if this could be always made 
out, is of little consequence for our present purpose. 
We may take first a brief and very clear one from the 
scholia to Hephaistion. | 

"Iordov 5& 6tt ddXwsS AapBavovet Tos YpdvoUS Of [MET- 
pikol nyouv of ypappartixol, Kal GrAXws of pvOmiKol. oF 
ypapmatixol éxeivov maxpov ypdvov érictavtal Tov éyovTa 
Sto ypdvous, Kal od Katayivoyrat eis peifov Tes ot Sé pud- 
puikol A€yovot Tdde elvat paKpdTepov Todde, PadcKovTES THY 
pev TV ovrAAABAr elvat S00 Hulcews ypovev Thy 5é TpLaV 
tHv dé wrevdvev: olov THY ws of ypaspwaTiKol Aéyovat SvO 
xpdvev elvat, of Sé fvOusKol Sto wuicews Sv¥o pév TOD w 
paxpod julypovoy S To o* Trav yap cvppwvoy réyeTat 
eye tutypdmov. (P. 93 Westphal, p. 16 Hoerschel- 
mann. ) 

At much greater length Marius Victorinus (p. 89 f. K.*) 
remarks to the same effect on the ‘non parva dissensio 


1 For convenience this treatise will be cited in the usual way, by 
Keil’s title, in Gram. Lat. VI. 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? . 7 


inter metricos et musicos propter spatia temporum quae 
syllabis comprehenduntur.’ Especially significant is the 
sentence: ‘ Musici, qui temporum arbitrio syllabas commit- 
tunt, in rhythmicis modulationibus aut lyricis cantioni- 
bus per circuitum longius extentae pronuntiationis tam 
longis longiores quam rursus per correptionem breviores 
brevibus proferunt.’ As examples, however, he gives 
only the isolated words Thersandrus and apyduecuevos, 
in each of which the first syllable is long by position, 
but is made still longer by changing the short vowel to 
an 7. The author sums up by proposing to leave this 
‘scrupulositas’ to the musici and rhythmici; ‘nam quod 
ad nos attinet, notemus plerasque syllabas ratione pares 
esse, Spatio autem seu sono impares, ut dicimus omnes 
Germanos longos esse, quamvis non sint omnes eiusdem 
staturae: sic dicemus etiam has syllabas in genere esse, 
non in spatio, longarum seu brevium syllabarum.’ 

The earliest in date of these references is in Dionysios 
Hal., as follows: 

“Oporoyeitas 5 Bpaxeiav elvat cvrAdrdaBnv Hv rove 
goviev Bpaxyd Td 0, @ A€yeTat Odds. Ta’bTn TpoaTeOjTw 
EV Ypauma TOV HuLipwvev TO p Kal yevérOw ‘Pddos* péver 
pev ért Bpayeia 4 cvrAdAaAB, TAY oY opmolws, AAN eeu 
TWWa TapadrAayny axaph Tapa THY TpoTépav. Tt mpoc- 
TeOnTw Tav’Tn TOV adwovov ypappdtov TOT, Kal yevérOw 
TpoTos* pellwv attn TaV mpoTépwv EcTat cVAAABAY, Kal 
ért Bpayeia péver. tplrov y ert ypdupa TH avTy avA- 
AaBn tpocteOnTw Tb 0 Kai yeveoOw aotpdpos* Tpicly arn 
mpocOnKals dKkovoTais paxpotépa yevnoerat THs BpaxyuTa- 
Tn, wevovea étt Bpayeia. ovKxodv Técoapes ada Bpayelas 
ovAraBys Siahopal, THY avaroyov éyovcat aicOnow THs 
Taparrayns métpov. o S€ avros Adyos Kal él THs waxpas. 
yap é« TOD n ywopmevn cvArAABH, maKpa THY piow ovca, 
Tecoapwov ypaumdrwv mpocOyjKxas mapavEnOeioa, Tpiav 


8 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


mpotatTouevwr evos S€ wrotattouevwr, Kal? qv Aéyerat 
omy, welSwv av Snrrov réyotTo elvat THs mpoTépas éxelvns 
THS Movoypayparou: peounévn 8 av Kal? év Exactov Tov 
TpooTeVevT@v ypapudrov, TAS él TOUNATTOV Tapaddayas 
aicOnras av éyot. aitia dé Hris éotl TOU pte Tas paKpas 
éxBaivey thy éavtav vow, wéypt ypamparov érra unkv- 
vomévas, pyre Tas Bpaxelas, eis Ev ad TOANOY Ypap- 
Matwv cvoTedropevas, exrrimrev ths Bpaxydtntos, adra 
Kaxetvas év durraciy Ady OewpeicOa Tav Bpayedv, kab 
TavTas év Hpwice TOV MaKpOV, OvK avayKaioy év TO TapdyTt 
oKoTeiy. apket yap, doov eis THY Trapodcay bTdeoww Hp- 
porrev, eipnoOar Ste Svadddrre Kal Bpayeia ovrArdaBH 
Bpaxetas kal paxpa paxpas, Kal ovte Thy adTny eye. Sdva- 
MLV, OVTE EV AOYoLS Yidois ovT’ év TrotnuaclY 7 MérEoL dia 
pvOuav n pétpwv KatacKevalopuévors, waca Bpayeia Kal 
mica waxpa. (De Comp. Verb. 15, p. 178 ff. Schaefer.) 

The same doctrine of the pu0usxol appears in Aris- 
tides Quintilianus. 

Tovtwv ovv ovtws éydvtay dédeixtar Ta pmeyeOn Trav 
oroyeloy Tois Stactnpacw iodpiOma Tod Tévous TO pev 
yap éAdyiorov avTav Tod meyioTou TeTapTnudpLoV éaTLV, 
ws 7 Sleris TOD TOVOV, TO 5é pécov Hutov pev Tod pelCovos, 
diurArdotov Sé rob éAdoocovos* THs Mev yap maxpas Huload 
éort Bpaxeia, THs Sé Bpayelas arrodv ciudwvov: SHrov 
dé é« rob tiv Bpayetav 4 dirdod cuppawvov mrapatebevtos 
H évos hovnevros yevéoOar waxpdv, (I 21, p. 45 Mb.) 

To sum up, then, we find this difference affirmed 
between the two schools. The metrici considered the 
long syllable as always twice the length of the short; 
whatever variation from this ratio the varying constitu- 
tion of syllables produced was treated as too slight to 
affect the general flow of verse. The rhythmici, on the 
other hand, held that long syllables differed greatly from 
each other in quantity and that short syllables differed 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 9 


from each other in some degree, apart from variations in 
tempo. The doctrine of adoyéa or irrationality, whereby 
some syllables were longer or shorter by a small unde- 
fined amount than the complete long, was associated by 
some with this theory, as in a passage of Dionysios Hal. 
which we must examine more fully later. (See p. 169.) 
Some, at least, affirmed also that a single consonant re- 
quired half the time of a short vowel, and that two con- 
sonants or a double consonant required the same time as 
a short vowel; these writers accordingly set up a scale 
of measurement for syllables, simply counting the num- 
ber of time-units required, on this theory, by the con- 
stituent vowels and consonants. 

We may now add another passage from Aristides Q. 

Oi ev ody cupmrdcovtes TH peTpiKn Jewpla Thy Tept 
puOuar roavrny tid weTotnvtat Thy Texvoroylav: ot dé 
yxopifovres érépws trotovot. (I 18, p. 40 Mb.) 

The two schools are here distinctly recognized, along 
with a group who combined in their presentation the 
doctrines of both; but a careful examination of the 
context is necessary before one sees clearly who the 
cuumrdecovres and the ywpiovres are. The passage 
forms part of the section on fv@uc«7, which is intro- 
duced by the words, at the end of chapter 12 (p. 81 
Mb.), peraBadpev Se rovrdv él tHv pvOuixnv Oewplav. 
In chapter 18 the nature of rhythm is considered ; then 
in order come the topics 1rp&tos ypdvos, ctvOeros ypdvos, 
movs, yévn pvOuixd, then the fuOpuol civOero, acvvOeror, 
and pwxtol. In chapters 15 and 16 are taken up the 
Saxturixov yévos, the iauBicdv, the mamuxdv. In 17 
we are told that several kinds of rhythm arise from the 
mingling of these yév7,— two Soypmiaxd, and the so- 
called mpocodaxol. Then are described two adoyor 
xopeior, the tapBoedys and the tpoxatoerdijs. Also, he 


10 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


adds, there are other pu@uol wixro/, six in number, which 
he names and describes,— the xpntixds (_ v — v), the 
daxtunros Kat lauBov (v —v —), the Sd«rvdos Kata Bax- 
xelov Tov amd Tpoxatov (—Y Vv —), the Sd«turos Kata 
Baxxeiov Tov ard iduBov (v ——v), the Sd«turos Kara 
xopetov Tov tapmPoedy and the dd«rudos Kata yopetov Tov 
tpoyatocton. Next follows (after a remark on the names 
of the last six feet) the passage quoted above: “Such 
is the system constructed by those who combine rhyth- 
mical principles with their doctrine of metric ; but those 
who separate these proceed otherwise. Namely,” ete. 

The summary which follows is not easy to understand 
in detail, but is clearly “rhythmical,” a more or less 
remote echo of Aristoxenos, 802 Mor. It introduces the 
kevol ypdvot, or rests, deals with rhythmical ratios, and 
contains no suggestion of the purely “ metrical” doc- 
trine. This agrees with the interpretation just given 
for the passage quoted. Chapters 16 and 17 contain 
much that is “rhythmical” in character (as the irra- 
tional feet), mingled with not a little that is distinctive 
of the wetpixot. ‘The word order of the Greek gives to 
petpixyn the greater prominence. This consideration is 
of some consequence to the interpretation; descending 
stress is the rule in Greek, as the ascending is in English 
and French. Ovi cuprdéxovres are primarily metrici, but 
they endeavor to combine more or less of rhythmical 
doctrine with that of the pure metrici; of ywpifovtes are 
rhythmici. 

This passage of Aristides has been dwelt on at greater 
length because it indicates the general attitude of the 
author. His treatise bears the title aepi wovorjs and 
includes an outline of musical theory; one therefore 
naturally assumes that in his treatment of verse he 
should be counted as wovovxds rather than perpixds. In 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 11 


fact however he is an eclectic, who drew from various 
sources, including some of the oldest and best; but 
every statement of his on metric must be examined crit- 
ically by itself before it can be accepted as anything 
better than that of a late perpixds,* 

None of the preceding extracts gives a name or en- 
ables us to identify any of the authors alluded to as 
rhythmici. But Aristoxenos is often cited as 0 povor- 
«és, and since Westphal’s labors no one doubts the prom- 
inence of Aristoxenos as the founder and leader of that 
school, or his fundamental importance in the study of 
Greek rhythmic and metric. And for us he stands 
alone. His followers appear to have added nothing of 
value to his treatment of the subject; their errors can no 
longer be assigned with certainty to specific names. 
‘Now the special merit of Aristoxenos in the treatment , 
of metric is that he clearly saw and clearly set forth the 
relations of rhythm in verse to other forms of rhythm. 
Speech was to him merely one of many pu0ucCoueva. 
The principles of rhythmic, as he conceived it, are the 
same in instrumental music, in the dance, in poetry; 
HeTpiKH, OpxnoTiKy, and povorxy in the narrower sense, 
were to him parallel; his pu@uied ororyeta kept all 
equally in view, as our fragments of that work clearly 
show. 

However, the precise doctrines attributed in our cita- 
tions to the puOuwxoi do not appear in Aristoxenos as 
we have him. The doctrine of adoyla, of cvAdaBai 
aroryot and mddes droryor, he has indeed; but in his lucid 
and rather detailed explanation of the matter there is no 
hint of an application of it to ordinary dactylic hexam- 


1 Cf. Susemihl, Gesch. d. gr. Lit. in d. Al. Zeit, II p. 223 ff., and v. 
Jan on Arist. Q. in Pauly-Wissowa, and T. Reinach in Rev. des Et. gr, 
1899, vol. 12, p. 422. 


12 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


eters or to any variety of anapestic verse. In a later 
chapter we shall return to this topic; for the present 
it is enough to note the absence from our incomplete 
Aristoxenos of that particular kind of ddoyos paxpa 
Bpaxyutépa tis teXelas which we are told the pu?uxol 
found in some Homeric hexameters and in certain 
anapeests. Equally unknown to our Aristoxenos is the 
theory of constant and exact time ratios between vowels 
and consonants. And for the two reasons it is difficult 
to believe that it was accepted by the great pu usxds. 
In the first place, his principle of a\oyéa (which we shall 
see was applied both to verse that was spoken and to 
verse that was sung) was an impossibility, unless he 
recognized a considerable degree of variability in the 
- lengths of vowels and consonants. A long vowel plus 
two consonants or a double consonant made, according 
to the puOwixol in question, a syllable thrice as long as 
a syllable of one short vowel only. Yet it is certain 
that Aristoxenos regarded as irrational, that is, as having 
something less than twice the length of a single short 
vowel, many such syllables. And secondly, the doctrine 
is so self-contradictory in practice that no one, not even 
the inventor of it, could hold to it in concrete cases of 
connected verse. For example, in the line 


Tridbev we hépwv dvepwos Kixdvecot méXaccer, 


in which we are assured the puvOmsxol regarded the long 
syllables as irrational, not quite so long as the tedela 
paxpd, the syllable -pwv would by this theory be three 
(possibly two and a half) times the length of a short 
syllable, and every syllable containing a short vowel and 
one consonant would exceed the proper length of a short 
syllable. Evidently this doctrine would destroy all 
rhythm in poetry as the Greeks wrote it. The notion 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 13 


can have been nothing more than a bit of abstract theory, 
not even supposed to have any practical application in 
verse. The passage from Aristides Q. (I, 21, above, 
p- 8) probably indicates the origin of the notion. 
From the fact that a short vowel makes a long syllable 
when followed either by a double consonant (or two con- 
sonants) or by a single vowel (making a diphthong) 
some one drew what seemed to him the obvious inference, 
namely, that a single consonant demands half the time of 
a short vowel. The analogy of this scale of quantities 
with the ratio existing between the déeovs or quarter tone, 
the semitone, and the whole tone in the musical scale 
might naturally, to a puOuxds of this type, appear like a 
rather pretty support for the doctrine. But of any seri- 
ous application of the doctrine to any Greek verse there 
could be no question. That the doctrine is still gravely 
cited occasionally, and that Briicke supposed that he 
had demonstrated the truth of it for modern German, 
does not strengthen it in the least. It is easily made 
obvious to the ear, and has been demonstrated repeatedly 
(as will appear later) that consonants and vowels alike 
are very elastic as regards the time of pronunciation. 
We have no reason to doubt that this was true, in some 
degree at least, in ancient Greek. Certainly, if it were 
otherwise, a reasonable — not to say exact — observance 
of time ratios between the syllables in ancient Greek 
song would have been impossible. 

This doctrine, then, probably also the peculiar applica- 
tion of the principle of adoy/a, though quoted from of 
pv@usxol, had no place in the system of the greatest of 
the pu@uxol, Aristoxenos. Later writers, basing upon 
him, elaborated his theory and added these with other 
excrescences. One principle, however, all the pudusxol 
retained in common, namely, that long syllables were not 


14 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


all and always twice the length of short syllables. In 
Aristoxenos we can see that this principle stood in 
rational connection with other sound principles, all 
centering in his recognition of the fact that metric was 
properly a branch of rhythmic, that rhythm in language 
is identical in nature with rhythm in many other forms 
of physical movement, and particularly with rhythm in 
music and the dance. 

- On the other hand the metrici, disregarding those re- 
lations of language rhythm, made no distinction between 
long syllables. To them short syllables were all practi- 
cally equal, and a long syllable always practically twice 
as long as a short syllable. If they did not deny entirely 
the existence of any difference between long syllables, 
they considered those differences too slight to make it 
needful to take them into account in describing verse 
forms. 

It is well known that most of the writings on metric 
that have come down to us belong to this school, and — 
contain only occasional recognition of the other view. 
That fact is itself noteworthy. ‘True, it may mean noth- 
ing more than that Byzantine and Italian students of the 
classics in the Middle Ages found the metrici more intel- 
ligible and more useful for what they desired, and hence 
neglected the rhythmici. The ancient orchestic had 
perished and no longer interested the medieval student. 
Ancient music had undergone or was undergoing trans- 
formation; and though special treatises on music were 
still current, the rhythm of ancient music was so closely 
connected with that of poetry, that special musical hand- 
books appear to have said little about that side of the 
subject. It was therefore natural that handbooks which 
treated the rhythm of verse without reference to the 
other rhythmical arts should be thought sufficient, and 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 15 


should alone be propagated in the schools. Anyway 
such purely metrical handbooks were the ones in com- 
mon use in both the Byzantine and the Latin schools, 
and have survived in considerable bulk, while of the 
pvOuiead ororyeta of Aristoxenos only fragments, com- 
paratively small, are extant. 

But there is a farther significance in this survival of 
the metrici. The “metrical” view of verse rhythms 
not only was the prevalent one in later times; it was 
widely prevalent in the classical period also, and was 
older than the “rhythmical.” This has been remarked 
by others, as by Kawcezynski (Essai sur Vorigine et 
Vhistoire des rythmes, p. 81), by J. Caesar (Grundziige 
der gr. Rhythmik, p. 33), and by Susemihl (Gesch. der 
gr. Lit. in der Alexandrinerzeit, II, p. 218 ff.). Susemihl 
reminds us that the use of the syllable as a unit of 
measurement by of tradatol puOuixol, which usage Aris- 
toxenos vigorously opposed, is itself a distinct indication 
of the “metrical” standpoint. More recently G. Schultz 
(Hermes, vol. 35, 1900, p. 308 ff.) has shown that the 
name 70 trevrduerpov for the éreyetov, implying certainly 
something of the same view, was already current in the 
early part of the fourth century. Some other things 
point the same way. 

Aristides Q. at the close of I 19 (p. 43 Mb.) proposes, 
having finished his account of rhythmic, to take up 
briefly the subject of metric; which he proceeds to do. 
The following chapter begins: 

"Apy?) méev ovv 4 THs peTpLKAS O Trepl oToLYelwY AOyos, 
el 0 mrept cuAXNABAY, €16 6 Trept Today, cif ovTwS oO TreEpi 
TaV méTpwV, TeNeuTaios Se o mepl troinparTos, mpos evderEw 
TOV KOTO THS mEeTPLKAS TrapaTLOépuevos. 

These topics he then considers in the order mentioned. 
These are the topics and the order familiar to us in all 


16 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


the metrical handbooks that we have in sufficiently com- 
plete form to enable us to judge. Terentianus Maurus 
stops short of the last topic, but treats the others at 
length ; Marius Vict., Bk. I, varies the order only by in- 
serting transitional paragraphs, like those de arst et thest 
and de rhythmo (p. 40 ff. Keil), which have a “ rhyth- 
mical” tinge. Hephaistion’s handbook omits the first 
topic, on the letters, and is justified for so doing by 
Longinus in his rponeydueva (p. 92 W., p. 4 Hoerschel- 
mann) by the remark: 

"Ev € trols petpixois eidévar Se? Ste Taca Bpayeia ion 
kal waca paxpa ton. Kabdrov yap ai pév eto Sixpovor, 
ai 5& povdypovor, évred0ev Tov pév SdxTvrAov Kadovdpev 
TeTpaypovoy, Tov Sé mupplytov Slypovoy, od trodkvTpayyo- 
voovres THS Tointinhs AdEcws 7 TVAAABAS TA oToLye!a, 
ovdé év mrocdTnTl KaTapeTpodvTes Tovs YpdvoUS, aNd’ év 
Suvamet THS TWoodTHTOS. 

The thought is: Since in metric we regard all long 
syllables as equal and all short syllables as equal, we 
need not trouble ourselves to measure the precise (per- 
haps slightly varying) length nor discuss the individual 
sounds that make up the syllables in poetry. Except 
for this omission, Hephaistion follows the scheme 
precisely. 

We find now that these same topics and this same 
order — at least as regards the first two— go back, as 
a traditional part of works on metric, to a considerably 
earlier date than Aristoxenos. In the Poetics, 20, Aris- 
totle says: Tis dé AdEews dardons tad’ éotl Ta mépn, cTol- 
xelov, cvAAABH, cUVSer mos, Svoua, PHua, ApOpov, Tracts, 
Adyos. He then discusses briefly the orovyetov, which he 
describes as dav? &dvalperos, and certain classes of orol- 
xeia, namely daviev, julpwvov, dpwvov, which he defines 
and exemplifies. And these differ, he adds, sx7maci Te 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 17 


Tov oTdmatos Kal ToTols Kal SacdTnT Kal YirdTnTL Kal 
peje kal Bpaydtrntt, ére 58 ofdTnTt Kal Baptrnte Kab To 
péow’ wept dv xa Exacrov év Tois peTpiKots mpoonKes 
Gewpeciv. Then follows a single sentence on the syllable, 
with the addition: dAAa@ Kal rovT@v Oewpjaat Tas Siado- 
pas THS meTpLKNS EoTLV, 

With this Vahlen compares De Part. Anim. 2, 16. 660 
a 2: 

“O Adyos o Sia THS Hovis ék TOV ypaupatrov cvyxeTat, 
THs O€ YA@TTNS by ToLavTHS ovens wnde TOV YELNOv bypav 
ov av ww p0éyyecPat Ta TreicTAa TOV ypaypdtov: Ta 
pev yap THS yA@TTHS eiol mpocBorai, Ta Se cupBorai TaV 
xELNOV. Tolas dé TadTa Kal Tdécas Kal Tivas Eyer Siahopas, 
det ruvOdvec Oat Tapa TOV pETPLKaD. 

Further, Plato (Krat. 424 bc) has the following: 

*AdXrAa TE av ein O TpdTos THs Statpécews, OOev Apyerat 
pipeioOat Oo pupovpevos; Apa ovK émelmep ovrAraBais Te 
Kal ypdwpacw minnows Tvyyaver ovca THS ovcias, 6pOd- 
tatov éort SiekécOar Ta oToLyela TPAToV, Ootep ot émuyel- 
podvres Tois puOmois TaY aTolvyel@v TpaToVv Tas Suvdpels 
SiefAovro, Ererta TOV oVANABAV Kal obTws Hdn Epyovrat 
éml Tos puOuords oKxerdmevot, tpdtepov & ov; ap ovv Kal 
Huas oUTM Sel MpaTov mév TA Hovnevta SveréoOa, Errevra 
Tov érépwov Kata eldn Tad Te Ghova Kal ApGoyya — obTwol 
ydp tov Xéyovaw ot Sevol rept rovTav — Kal Ta ad pavn- 
evTa pep ov, ov pévro ye AbOoyya; Kal adtav TaV dwvn- 
évrwv doa duddopa eldn éyet addHjrOv. 

From these passages two inferences can be drawn 
without question. First, in the time of Aristotle, and 
even of Plato, a detailed analysis of the sounds and their 
syllabic combinations was already familiar to students. 
The rather minute description of the vowels and conso- 
nants which we find in Dionysios Hal. (De Comp. Verb. 


14), with such a reference to Aristoxenos as leads nat- 
2 


18 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


urally to the supposition that substantially the whole 
chapter is drawn from him, was in the main inherited 
by Aristoxenos from an earlier generation. (Whether 
in the following chapter also, on syllables, Dionysios had 
Aristoxenos in mind and drew from him, we have no 
way of determining.) Secondly, such analysis of sounds 
and syllables was thus early considered a part of werpix7. 
It was regularly found — at least was naturally to be 
looked for —in the perpixo/, who at this date would be 
generically those who wrote or lectured on meters, and 
would be the same class of people as Plato’s ot ézuye- 
poovtes Tois puOuois. In that generic sense Aristoxenos 
himself was a mwerpixds; like the rest he had sections on 
the sound-elements or letters and on syllables; probably 
also these were followed by sections on mddes and on 
wétpa. What made his work remarkable, and the begin- 
ning of a new school, was not these chapters, in which 
he more closely conformed to tradition, but the doctrines 
of the fvOuixa orovyeia, which put all these more tra- 
ditional portions in a new light. We may even admit 
that his section on syllables perhaps contained such a 
recognition of the varying quantitative effects of conso- 
nants as was easily misunderstood and was later crystal- 
lized into the fallacious time-scale. 

We cannot doubt, then, that the treatment of verse 
rhythms before Aristoxenos was largely “ metrical,” in 
this sense, that it set out from consideration of sounds 
and syllables, and only partially regarded rhythm in the 
other arts. Also, while we have no way of discover- 
ing what precise degree of elaboration the theory had 
received at any given date, it is clear that before the 
date of Plato’s Kratylos a pretty complete system was 
regularly taught, if not already set forth in published 
treatises. The allusions of Aristophanes in the Clouds 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 19 


(649 ff.) carry back a rather detailed nomenclature, that 
is, a system involving rather minute distinctions, into 
the fifth century. How much earlier a fully developed 
and widely accepted system existed we do not know. 

Of course, throughout this earlier period a great deal 
of poetry was sung. The singer consciously kept the 
time, and the chorus leader beat time, that all might 
keep together. In such singing there could be no real 
confusion as to the duration of syllables. The singers 
therefore cannot have supposed, while singing, that all 
long syllables were equal, and that each was twice as 
long as a short syllable. The chorus of old men in the 
Agamemnon, rendering the words, 


Tov dpoveiy Bpotovs ode- 
cavta, Tov maVet walos 
O&vra Kupias eye, 


must have realized that they gave to the syllable -dw- 
as much time as to the two preceding syllables, a long 
and a short, together. Still we must remember that 
Greek song in general did no violence to the ordinary 
pronunciation of the verse, as regards time; at the ut- 
most the singer merely reduced to greater precision, with 
@ minimum of farther development, in the musical sense 
of the word, the rhythm which any untrained speaker 
naturally gave the lines in reciting them. This prin- 
ciple is beyond question for the earlier period, whatever 
departures from it may have been permitted later. And 
the point to be emphasized is the natural and unforced 
character of this rhythm, to the Greek. That is, no 
more training in music or in pronunciation was requisite 
to enable a Greek boy to read Greek poetry in the cor- 
rect rhythm than is now requisite to enable a boy whose 
native tongue is English or German to read English or 


20 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


German poetry in the correct rhythm. No theory at 
all was needful for that purpose, as no theory is now 
needful for English or German. For these two modern 
languages the theory of metric is as yet little better 
than chaos; but whether one holds a right or a wrong 
theory or none whatever, all readers alike, though they 
may have no ear at all for music,—if only they have 
a vernacular command of the language, and at the same 
time understand the meaning and are not specially defi- 
cient in taste,—read the same verses in substantially 
the same rhythm. 
_ Nor does the poet himself need any theory to help 
him compose. As regards the fundamental character of 
rhythm in his verse he commonly has none; he may 
have a quite wrong one, and still compose well. He is 
guided by his ear, —that is, by native artistic sense 
trained by the study of poetry and by his own practice. 
Skill in manipulation, clear perception of the artistic 
value of effects, — these he must have; whether he can 
describe those effects in scientific terms is a matter of 
indifference. So the painter must have a sense of form 
and color, and great skill in manipulation; whether he 
has a scientific knowledge of optics and the chemistry 
of his pigments and the mathematics of perspective is of 
no consequence whatever for his art. Why should we 
suppose it to have been otherwise with the Greek poet? 
Music, so far as it dealt with scales, modes, tuning of 
stringed instruments, notation, and the like, the ancient 
poet-musician had to learn, as one has to learn the like 
now. These he had to know in a system or theory be- 
fore he could use them; they stood in no such close 
relation to anything in universal daily life that one could 
acquire them unconsciously or half consciously. But 
the rhythm he did not need to be taught in that way; he 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 21 


needed no theory of it, as our poets need none. It was 
involved in the syllables, and commonly had no other 
notation than the syllables in their ordinary spelling. 
The letters and syllables were therefore the natural 
starting-point for metrical theory, and a Greek poet 
could hardly be expected to feel a need either of going 
back of these or of adding to these any more elaborate 
theory of rhythm. He dealt with long and short sylla- 
bles of varying constitution; the rhythm came of itself 
by the unconscious or half-conscious effect of a rhyth- 
mizing impulse which his readers and hearers fully shared 
with him, so that a more exact notation than the long 
and short syllables themselves furnished was not called 
for. Precisely so with us, mutatis mutandis. Our poet, 
in English or German, deals with accented and unac- 
cented syllables of varying constitution ; the rhythm of 
a given combination results from the unconscious or half- 
conscious working of a rhythmizing impulse which we 
share fully with the poet, so that in verse we ask for no 
more exact notation than is offered by the words in 
ordinary form. The illustration may be carried still 
farther. 

There are many modern songs in which the time of 
the music stands in exactly the relation to the words 
which existed in Greek song. It is worth noting that a 
large proportion of the songs that from time to time 
acquire a more or less short-lived popularity among the 
less cultivated —songs put in circulation by the circus: 
and the music-hall—are of this character as regards 
rhythm, and not infrequently words and tune are com- 
posed by the performer. But there are plenty of ex- 
amples of a higher grade. The change from the speak- 
ing to the singing voice, from the speech-tune (cvveyns 
clvnow tis povis) to the melody (Siacrnpatiny Kivnows 


22 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


THs dovyns), brings with it a closer observance of time- 
ratios in the rhythm; that is the only rhythmical change 
made when one passes ‘from the recitation to the singing 
of those lines. The naturalness of the process and the 
slightness of the change are neatly illustrated by the 
way in which children tend to read simple verse in 
“sing-song.” An example of the extreme limit of the 
change is seen in Schubert’s music to Goethe’s Heiden- 
réslein. The natural rhythm of the words is observed. 
throughout; but in certain places the time is filled out 
by prolonging the notes in place of the pause which 
one more naturally makes in simple reading. The 
first stanza runs: 


Sah ein Knab’ ein Réslein stehn, 
Roslein auf der Heiden, 

War so jung und morgenschin, 

Lief er schnell, es nah zu sehn,’ 
Sah’s mit vielen Freuden. 


In the melody, in ? time, each syllable has an eighth 
note or its equivalent, except that schnell is held a little 
and es correspondingly shortened (as one would naturally 
read it), and except farther at the end of each line. 
There the words stehn, schén, and sehn receive each a 
quarter note, so that the time which in reading is occu- 
pied by the syllable and a pause is filled out in singing 
with a musical tone. Finally at the end of lines two and 
five (which as words and syllables have only the length 
of Sah ein Knab’ ein Réslein, without stehn), a reader 
waits, until the line and pause together equal in 
time the other lines. It is as if the second line were 
Réslein auf der Heiden-flur, and the reader substituted 
a pause for -fur. In the melody, however, this pause, 
like the one at the end of the other lines, is filled out 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 23 


with musical sound, in this case by prolongation of the 
next to the last syllable; so that Hez- and Freu- receive 
each a quarter note, while -den also receives a quarter 
note, or an eighth note and eighth rest. Thus among 
other things illustrated by the stanza are two forms of 
the Greek catalexis. And to make the example all the 
more significant, the same words were set to music by 
another composer, Joh. F. Reichardt,! who employed the 
same time and preserved the natural rhythm of the words 
in the same way as Schubert, except in one mere trifle. 
That is, he wrote two eighth notes instead of a dotted 
eighth and a sixteenth for the words schnell es ; and here 
the singer might very likely make no difference what- 
ever in the rendering. 

I have ventured to dwell on these details in order to 
make clear the following fact. In cases like this, if poet 
and musical composer had been one and the same, he 
would have needed for composing this and other tunes 
on the same principle, melodies only, without harmony 
or accompaniment of differing rhythm, no system of 
notation for the rhythm, and no detailed theory as to 
. the ratios between the various syllables or notes. To 
place over the syllables signs indicating the place which 
each note had in the scale, leaving the time unmarked, 
except as the words in their ordinary spelling indicate 
the reading, would be sufficient for any singer who 
understood the system. If substantially all song were 
of this character, the poet-musician would feel no need 
of a detailed scientific theory so far as that concerns a 
statement of exact ratios between syllables, any more 
than at present the poet feels the need of such a theory 
for writing verse. The supposed modern poet-musician 
might, as the poet now may, either be quite uninterested 


1 In Peters’s Liederschatz. 


24 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


in the scientific theory on those points or hold an errone- 
ous theory, and still write good poetry in exquisite 
rhythm, to which, if he possessed the required skill in 
the other departments of music, he could add exquisite 
melody. Nor do I see that the addition of a dance, itself 
also conforming in rhythm to the words, would alter 
the requirement in the least as regards rhythmical 
theory. ‘That would be implicitly contained, sufficiently 
for all his artistic needs, in the doctrine of sounds and 
syllables, and of feet and larger units as made up of com- 
binations of syllables, —a doctrine leaving room for a 
considerable amount of uncertainty as to some of the 
exact ratios within the foot. 

Now this was precisely the case with the Greeks. 
Before Aristoxenos students of verse-forms were content 
to take their start from syllables, studying sounds in 
order to explain the constitution of the syllables, treating 
feet as made up of syllables, and larger units as made up 
of feet. It was also clear that the normal feet — all com- 
binations of syllables to which they gave the name zrd8es 
— contained, when sung, a part marked and accompanied 
by the down-beat and also a part that was sung while 
the beating hand or foot was returning to the starting- 
point. These were the portions known as thesis and 
arsis, standing to each other in the ratio of 1: 1, 2: 1, or 
3:2. So much it was needful to know in order to beat 
time or to keep the time in singing. Farther, in regular 
dactylic or anapeestic verse, and in the vast majority 
of cases in iambic, trochaic, and paionic verse, it was 
clearly brought out in the process of beating time that 
the long syllable had twice the length of the short. - 
That ratio was therefore naturally given as the general 
rule, in all the normal feet as presented in the theory. 
But precisely what ratios resulted when in fu@morrovla 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 25 


Gi. e., in the actual production of rhythm in poetry) an 
arsis was not represented by a separate syllable, or when 
a line was treated as the line Réslein auf der Heiden is 
in Goethe’s stanza and Schubert’s or Reichardt’s music, 
or when feet of different yévn were mingled in one group, 
—on such points they might easily be somewhat in- 
different, or might hold views that within certain limits 
were notin agreement. In practice, in reading and sing- 
ing, there would still be agreement, though people who 
agreed in practice might differ in their explanation of 
what they did, as is frequently the case with readers of 
modern verse.! Atany rate we get no distinct indication 
of interest in such points until Aristoxenos took them up. 

He was neither poet nor musical composer, but a 
scholar and man of science, the pupil of Aristotle. He 
was also a man of taste, fonder of the great classical 
poets and musicians than of the productions of his con- 
temporaries. The scientific aspects of the arts interested 
him, and he hoped that a better statement of theory 
would be an influence on the side of better taste. He 
treated all rhythms as primarily combinations of time 
ratios, starting from the ypévos mparos instead of the 
syllable as the unit. This new point of view, once in- 
troduced into the science of metric, was never again 
wholly lost. 

But neither did the new method penetrate and master 
the science completely. And the reasons are not hard 
to understand. To begin with, for practical purposes 


1 Tennyson is quoted by his son, in his Life of the poet, as 
saying that “few educated men really understand the structure of 
blank verse,” and as remarking on the way in which Englishmen 
“confound accent and quantity.” If nothing else, this illustrates the 
differences of theory referred to. And it is notorious that scholars 
are widely at variance in their description of common English meters, 
which all agree substantially in reading. 


26 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


the older method seemed good enough so long as the 
language still lived, with quantities and intonations sub- 
stantially unchanged, and poetic production, even though 
not of the greatest, still going on. And then the method 
of Aristoxenos had the disadvantage, for popularity, that 
always inheres in the abstract over the concrete. I mean 
this. Syllables, words, verses, are something audible, 
visible, significant; every one felt he knew pretty well 
what these were. But time is abstract, impalpable, an 
empty something that accompanies the sounds and is 
not easily conceived alongside them. A ypdvev rafts 
is not easily described or grasped, even by musicians. 
Ancient musical notation gave far less help than ours 
does. But the rhythmic of Aristoxenos required one to 
fix his attention on time, time-intervals, and time-ratios, 
apart from the syllables, notes, or steps in which those 
time-relations were embodied,—to separate from the 
various familiar pvOufoueva a system of fvOyol in 
the abstract. We ourselves, trained as we all are in 
geometry and algebra, find that not easy; most students 
of modern verse have absolutely refused to make an 
effort which appears to them so useless and so fallacious. 
Aristoxenos found no little difficulty in making people 
see precisely what he meant by his mpa@tos ypdvos even 
(280, 282, Mb.). These fv@puol, which had no concrete 
existence except in one or another fu@uilduevor, the 
student was expected first to contemplate in an abstract 
system and then watch them, as it were, reémbodying 
themselves in words, steps, and notes, with more or less 
variation between the theoretical form and the concrete. 
Aristoxenos felt obliged to warn his readers repeatedly 
of this variation, reminding them to distinguish carefully 
pvOuds and puOuomola.1 Not merely is this doctrine of 


1 See the passages below, p. 104 ff. 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? - 27 


an abstract system, which is varied greatly in practical 
application, difficult for us to grasp and keep clearly 
before us in reading our fragments of Aristoxenos; it is 
evident also that the author of it felt himself to be 
making a considerable demand on the understanding of 
his contemporaries. All things considered, it is no way 
surprising that his method failed of universal, or even 
very general, acceptance. 

All the more natural is it that in the later period 
students of poetry and writers on metric should pretty 
generally approach the subject from the “metrical” 
standpoint, that is, should deal with syllables, feet, and 
meters directly, with little or no reference to abstract 
rhythmic. In so doing they simply adhered to the older 
way of looking at the matter, and to a method that was 
practically sufficient for readers to whom Greek and 
Latin were living tongues, modern still if also ancient. 
I would go a step farther in recognition of the metrici, 
early and late alike. At bottom, if we take their terms 
in their sense, they were right. We gain nothing, and are 
certainly mistaken, if we lightly assume that Hephaistion 
and the rest, together with the earlier writers whom they 
copied or followed, were ignorant of what they wrote 
about. First we must understand them; next, if a 
doctrine still seems clearly quite untenable, we should 
try to trace the error, with the presumption that the 
error will be found intelligible and not unreasonable, 
perhaps even instructive, if we can only discover where 
and how it came in. At the risk of some repetition — 
for the point is a fundamental one —let us make a little 
farther attempt to put ourselves in their place and see 
the matter with their eyes for the moment. 

I hope it has been shown that the syllable was a 
natural starting-point for a systematic exposition of the 


28 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


formal side of versification. In the vast majority of 
cases, in all meters, the long syllable was seen to be 
twice as long as the short syllable. In every foot, that 
is, in every small combination of syllables to which they 
originally gave the name zrovs, such that a verse might 
regularly consist of a succession of like feet (as dactyl, 
anapeest, spondee, trochee, iambus, ionic, cretic), that 
ratio always holds. If anything at all was said about 
the matter —and in connection with song the matter 
could not be passed over—that ratio was the one to 
give; it was the normal and ordinary ratio. True, in 
practice the normal feet were sometimes varied by the 
omission of a syllable or two, so that various other ratios 
appeared. But viewed from their starting-point these 
ratios, though by no means rare, were rather abnormal ; 
and they did not require to be described in detail for the 
reader or speaker with a vernacular knowledge of the 
language. Absence of the arsis syllable or syllables, 
and the adjustment required — whatever it was — when | 
spondees or dactyls or anapests were mixed with tro- 
chees or iambi, caused no practical difficulty to the 
native. For conductor and singer alike we must 
remember that the natural pronunciation of the words, 
familiar to all, constituted the basis; the situation was 
- not what it is when a modern conductor leads an orches- 
tra or chorus, rendering music that employs far more 
complicated ratios, all of necessity marked with pre- 
cision in our notation. If the Greek composer in a com- 
plicated lyric rhythm made combinations to which the 
ordinary pronunciation of the words was not a sufficient 
guide, that was his special affair, to be indicated in his 
notes by additional signs and then taught to the singer; 
the general writer on metric did not need to consider it. 
The ear could recognize easily the normal ratio of 2 : 1, 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 29 


and could always distinguish easily the long from the 
short; but it was often not easy, it was in some cases 
impossible, to state exactly the ratio between adjacent 
long and short in the combinations not included in the 
normal feet, although, be it always remembered, there 
was no practical difficulty at all in rendering them, 
because the innate rhythmical sense — the “ unconscious 
automatic mathematician,’ — was the same in all! In 
view of all these considerations it is not surprising, and 
does not imply stupidity or ignorance, that the metrici 
took no account of any other than the common ratio, 
that they applied the term dactyl to any long followed 
by any two shorts, that they called any two adjacent 
longs a spondee, and otherwise applied terms in a way 
that is misleading, unless one bears in mind their point 
of view, and for what manner of people they were writ- 
ing. Especially after the ancient music was partly lost, 
and the ancient dance wholly lost’; when the more com- 
plicated measures of the old lyric compositions were not 
often sung, if at all, but were commonly read, and read, 
of course, without that fuller and more perfect rhythmic 
swing which comes of itself in passing from the speak- 
ing voice to the singing voice, but which may sound 
affected in reading; and when, finally, the old pronun- 
ciation was changing and the quantitative system was 
breaking up, — then, I say, it was fairly inevitable that 
writers on versification should adhere pretty closely to 
the “metrical” method of presentation. Of course it 


1 “There is in each competent artist a sort of unconscious auto- 
matic mathematician, who, like the harmonist in music, the colorist 
in painting, resolves in his way the problem of sight or sound which 
the scientist puts into an equation.” (La Farge, Considerations on 
Painting, p. 130.) The rhythmic sense that is in every reader of verse 
is the same kind of a mathematician, though not necessarily in so 
high a degree of development as in the creative artist. 


80 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


does not follow that they made no mistakes. They were 
compilers, they sometimes included inconsistent doc- 
trines, their rare attempts at originality were not likely 
to be successful; in the latest period the affair is com- 
plicated by the fact that they sometimes had in mind 
more or less the accentual principle, which was gradually 
gaining on the quantitative; their theories as to the 
development of meters from one another are generally 
worthless, because their authors had and could have no 
conception of true historical method in investigating 
such problems. Still it is true that not a few of their 
statements which at first appear ignorant and worthless 
are in fact sensible, and not inconsistent with Aristox- 
enos, when seen through their eyes. To illustrate the 
point before going farther, let us look briefly at the 
elegiac pentameter. 

Hephaistion’s account of this line is as follows: 

Tod dé daxturxod mevOnuipepods Sis AapwBavopuévou 
ylyverat TO édeyetov’ GANA TO pev SevTepov avTod Epos 
émtacvANaPov del péver, €x Sto Saxtirwv Kal cvrAdraPijs, 
TO S€ mpdrepov Kivovpévous éyer Tors dvo mddas, OoTe 7 
Saxtirous avtorvs ylyverOat 4 orrovdelous, ) Tov ev Tpd- 
tepov Sdxturov Tov Sé Sevtepov orrovdciov: 7 avdradv 
TOV jev TpdoTepov omrovdciov Tov dé SevTepov SdxTvdov* 
map nv airtav To wev Sevrepov pépos del SimrrAactalcpevov 
éXeyetov trove, TO O€ mpdTepov ovKeérL, éav py é€x Svo daKk- 
TUwv cuveotyKn. (P. 52 W.) 

To the same effect Marius Vict. says: 

Compositus est [versus pentametrus] de hexametro ita, 
ut de tertio pede partem orationis complente semipes 
tollatur, itemque ex ultimo pede, quem spondeum esse 
debere in dubium non venit, adaeque postrema syllaba 
retrahatur. (P. 107 K.) 

The first example which he gives is the hexameter: 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 31 
Mars pater haec poteris quae nos quoque posse negamus, 


which is changed to a pentameter by omitting nos 
and -us: 


Mars pater, haec poteris quae quoque posse negam. 


The next example in both forms is 


barbarico postes auro spoliisque superbi, 
barbarico postes aur spoliisque super. 


In like manner Aristides Q., enumerating the topal 
of the dactylic hexameter, gives first, 4 pera dvo mddas 
els cvdAraByv, 4 Kal Sirractalopevyn trove’ TO éXeyeiov, od 
mépuKev apeTh TO THY pev THS TpoTépas auluylas cvANaBnv 
TepiTTHy e& avaryKns paxpav éyewv, THY Sé Sevtépav cubuy lav 
avapdiBdrws &€& audoiv cvyxcioOar Saxtirwv, (P. 51f. 
Mb.) 

With these descriptions, apparently quite simple and 
clear, agree fully those found in other grammarians. 
The verse is consistently represented as made up of two 
dactylic penthemimeres, or twice two and a half feet, 
with a word ending always at the end of the first two 
and a half. Modern scholars have been unanimous in un- 
derstanding this to mean that, in reading or singing, the 
syllable or half foot at the end of each half of the line 
stood rhythmically for a whole foot; that the time was 
filled out by prolongation or pause or both combined, so 
that the entire line was equal, in actual time, to a 
hexameter. | | 

It is true that our metrici mention also another view 
which treated the line as rhythmically a true pentameter, 
of the form 


PE 7 8 GAY we «0 PHONY Rene pa ire Pee 


This view has been lately defended as the only sound 
one. In the article before quoted (Hermes, 35, p. 308 ff.) 


32 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


G. Schultz brings forward in favor of that view, (1) the 
antiquity of the name pentameter, (2) passages in the 
grammarians which call the third foot a spondee and 
the last two feet anapests, (8) the impossibility that 
the ancients, while they still sang elegiac verses, beating 
time, could have erred by an entire half-foot in the 
middle of the line. In farther support of this manner of 
scanning he maintains that ictus in the sense of increased 
stress accompanying the down-beat was not present at all 
in ancient verse. ‘This last question, on the meaning of 
ictus and the presence or absence of stress, had been 
pretty well threshed out, shortly before Schultz’s article 
appeared, by Bennett (Am. Journ. Phil., XIX, 361-383), 
who took substantially Schultz’s view, and on the other 
side by Hendrickson (A. J. P., XX, 198-210. The dis- 
cussion was continued in the same journal, XX, 412-434). 
This part of Schultz’s argument, though important for 
his view, I therefore pass by, and go at once to the heart 
of the question. } | 

The antiquity of the name pentameter must be con- 
ceded ; also that no less an authority than Quintilian 
speaks of the ‘ pentametri medius spondius,’ which seems 
to carry with it the treatment of the last six syllables as 
two anapests. But let us look more closely. We will 
take first the passage on which Schultz especially relies, 
Quintilian IX, 4, 97 f., which reads: 

Non nihil est quod supra dixi multum referre, unone 
verbo sint duo pedes comprehensi an uterque liber. sic 
enim fit forte ‘criminis causa,’ molle ‘ archipiratae,’ mol- 
lius si tribrachys praecedat, ‘ facilitates,’ ‘ temeritates.’ 
est enim quoddam ipsa divisione verborum latens tem- 
pus, ut in pentametri medio spondio, qui nisi alterius 
verbi fine alterius initio constat versum non efficit. 

From this the inference of Schultz is: Durch den 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 33 


Ausdruck ‘latens tempus,’ sowohl wie durch das erste 
Beispiel ‘ criminis causa,’ wird uns bezeugt, dass die Pause 
in der Mitte des Pentameters ebenso verschwand, wie 
die zwischen zwei gewohnlichen Worten in fortlauf- 
ender Rede. | 

But this is palpable misinterpretation. The point of 
Quintilian’s comparison, it is true, lies evidently in that 
‘latens tempus,’ which exists in ‘criminis causa’ as in 
‘pentametri medio spondio.’ But it does not follow that © 
the likeness lay in the fact that in both cases the ‘latens 
tempus’ vanished, was imperceptible. ‘Latens tempus’ 
can only mean a time-interval not marked by or filled 
with a distinct speech-sound, — that is, a pause, or per- 
haps prolongation of the preceding syllable. It exists 
‘ipsa divisione verborum,’ and in the phrase ‘criminis 
causa,’ employed by an orator at the close of a sentence, 
as in the middle spondee of the pentameter. If the sen- 
tence stopped here, as it is made to in Schultz’s quota- 
tion, one might perhaps maintain that there is no such 
pause in either place, and that (in spite of the word- 
order) ‘latens tempus’ means no pause at all; in which 
case one could not but wonder why Quintilian used 
the illustration. But the sentence does not stop here. 
Quintilian adds, to make clear what he means by ‘latens 
tempus’ and wherein the likeness lies, the clause above 
given: “which [namely, the ‘medius spondius’] does 
not make the verse unless it consists of the end of 
one word and the beginning of another.” Even if this 
clause were not farther elucidated by similar explana- 
tions in other authors, it would show that Quintilian 
felt in that middle spondee a ‘latens tempus’ produced 
by the very division between the words,—a pause or 
break of some kind, not felt at all between successive 


syllables of the same word, and distinctly longer than 
3 


34 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


that imperceptible one, often non-existent, between two 
successive and closely connected words in continuous 
discourse. And then turning to the preceding context, 
reflecting that Quintilian is speaking of the rhythmical 
close of the sentence, we may recall that precisely at 
the close of a sentence of serious character, where 
rhythm becomes of special importance, any public 
speaker nowadays will often avail himself of the break 
between words, even closely connected words, to make 
the rhythm more pleasing by such a slight prolonga- 
tion or pause as would not be natural between similar 
words in a different situation. Thus Quintilian’s illus- 
tration becomes intelligible; but it is no longer quot- 
able as evidence that the ‘medius spondius’ of the 
pentameter was identical with the spondee at the end 
of a hexameter. 

And then that last clause must be viewed in the light 
of other accounts of the same phenomenon. In Scholia 
B. to Hephaistion (p. 171 f. W., p. 19f. H.) we find the © 
statement that some say the éXeryelov is really revrapert- 
pov, the third foot being a spondee, the fourth and fifth 
anapeests. But, the author adds, “itis better to measure 
it in this way: Since it is in fact divided ets dvo0 mev- 
Onutpeph (and the penthemimeres consists of two feet _ 
and a syllable) it admits in the first two places dactyl or 
spondee indifferently, then a long syllable ending a word, 
and after this again a second penthemimeres of two 
dactyls and a syllable.” Why, one asks, should this 
more complicated division survive, why particularly 
should it be considered better, even in Byzantine hand- 
books, if that middle spondee was in reading and singing 
always no other than a common spondee? Indeed, why 
should a word always end in the middle of that spondee ? 
The hexameter, nearest relative of the pentameter, has 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 35 


no one such fixed division. Terentianus Maurus also 
(1753-1800) recounts at some length the two different 
measurements, and describes that strange way of scanning 
whereby, in the practice of some, the syllable that ended 
the first half-line was saved out and put with the syllable 
that ended the second half, to make a spondee at the end. 
Those who did this evidently were led to such a queer 
procedure by the feeling that there was something 
unusual about that middle spondee. Marius Vict. also 
(p. 107-110 K.) goes pretty fully over the same ground 
with Terentianus. 

But a later paragraph of Marius Vict. throws farther 
light on the matter, as follows: 

Hoc quoque notandum in enuntiatione pentametri ele- 
giaci: nam plerumque aurem fallit, ut in illo graeco 
versu, 

jets © eis "EAXAnS mévrov atemdopev. 


nam si coniunctim ‘EAAjo7rovrov enuntiarimus, effugerit 
aurium sensum, ut nequaquam versus esse credatur. at 
si per hemistichium pronuntiemus, ipsa subdistinctione 
genus metri declarabimus, ita #peis & eis “EAXns, dehine 
movrTov ateTAComev. unde pentametrus duobus pedibus 
et semipede colon terminare debet, ut qui audierit, ante- 
quam percutiat, versum intellegat, velut 


labitur hine Helles, pontus in Oceanum. 
item 
venerunt inter, lunia sancta polo. 

nam si per se dicas ‘inter’ et per se ‘ lunia,’ media sub- 
distinctione interposita, recipiet formam elegiaci. (P. 
112 K.) 

I see no room for doubt about the meaning of this. 
To Marius Vict. and to his authority, if that middle 
spondee was pronounced as an ordinary spondee, ‘ con- 


36 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


iunctim,’ there was no pentameter. To illustrate the 
point examples are chosen which have in the middle 
such combinations as one would naturally, unless warned, 
read together, as compound words. But that would 
destroy the meter, ‘ut nequaquam versus esse credatur.’ 
If on the other hand we separate the two hemistichs, 
the whole will then receive the form of the elegiac line. 
This makes Quintilian’s remark plain. We now see 
why a word must end with the first half-line, namely, 
to give distinct warning of the break, to indicate that 
this is not an ordinary spondee, “ that the listener may 
understand the verse even before he beats the time 
through it.” We now see also why the second half-line 
must properly have two dactyls. If either were a 
spondee, it would be less clear, or quite uncertain, 
which was arsis and which thesis. What reason for 
this rule of the second hemistich is conceivable on the 
supposition that there was no such break in the move- 
ment at the middle of the line? One seeks in vain for 
a parallel in any other dactylic verse. 

To this evidence must be added the distinct statement 
of Augustine (De Mus. IV, 14, quoted, and connected 
with Quintilian IX, 4, 98, by Christ, Metrik, p. 94f.): 

Duo constituuntur non pleni pedes, unus in capite, 
alter in fine, qualis iste est 


gentiles nostros inter oberrat equos. 


sensisti enim, ut opinor, me post quinque syllabas 
longas moram duorum temporum siluisse, et tantundem 
in fine silentium est. 

How can one ignore and treat as non-existent 
such a mass of well known evidence, accessible in so 
popular a handbook as Christ’s? Schultz and those 
who take his view are certainly bound to offer some 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 37 


explanation of these passages that make against their 
doctrine of the pentameter. 

And now let us look again at the name pentameter 
and the common description of the line, recalling the 
antecedent conception on which the name and descrip- 
tion are based. Aristoxenos and the metrici alike called 
nothing a foot that consisted of less than two syllables, 
Aristoxenos says : 

"Ore pev ovv é€& évds ypdvou trods ove av ein havepor, 
érevdnmrep ev onuciov od Trove’ Stalipsow ypdvous avev yap 
Siaipécews ypdvov trovs ov Soxct yiverBar. (P. 288 Mor.) 

Whoever will examine these words attentively in their 
context will see that ypdvov in the first clause signifies, 
not ypdvos mparos, but ypdvos modveds,—that is, an 
arsis, thesis, whole foot, or some time-interval that is 
represented by a separate syllable in the fundamental 
normal foot. (See below, p. 184). He means that one 
syllable, however prolonged, cannot make a foot, because 
its time, a longer ypdvos mrodixds, is not audibly divided. 
The ancient conception of the zovs, unlike our concep- 
tion of the measure or bar in music, involved as essen- 
tial an audible division of its time by the transition from 
one syllable or note to another. Herein Aristoxenos 
agreed with the metrici from the earliest to the latest. 
Supposing then that the pentameter as sung had the 
form 

—_-wWwl_wlule_vvl—vvlu ll, 
how should the early metrician describe it? Obviously, | 
as made up of two parts, each consisting of two and a 
half feet. He could say that without in the least mean- 
ing that the half-foot was strictly two-timed. He could 
not say that each half-line was made up of. three feet, 
the last consisting of one prolonged syllable. In syllabic 
character that tetraseme was but a half-foot. He might 


38 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


indeed have said that each half-line was made up of two 
feet and a long syllable, the latter equivalent to a foot. 
But it could hardly occur to him that the phrase ex- 
plaining the character of that last syllable was necessary. 
For his readers it was not necessary, and he could not 
foresee our ignorance. In many cases, too, — always 
when at the end of the line a break in sense occurs, and 
often in the middle —that long syllable was not, in 
recitation, so prolonged, but the time was naturally filled 
out by a pause. I do not see then how he could think 
of the line otherwise than as made up of twice two and 
a half feet. And twice two and a half is five. It was 
inevitable that the name “ five-measure ” should become 
current alongside of édeyetov. The true character of 
that half-foot, which they saw no need of entering into, 
is indicated to us by the care with which the metricians 
emphasize the break between the hemistichs. All insist 
that a word must end there. Every full description that 
we have records, as the ordinary division of the line, 
that into two penthemimeres; even writers who describe 
the division into five entire feet, the last two being 
anapeests, call the other division better (Schol. B. to 
Heph., cited above) or more usual (Diomedes, p. 503 
K.); Marius Vict., by the very terms he employs in 
stating that division (p. 110 K.), shows that to him the. 
second hemistich was dactylic and not anapeestic, and 
the passage quoted above from him indicates distinctly 
how the line sounded to him. The fact also recorded 
by him (p. 110 K.) that some allowed a short syllable at 
the end of the first hemistich, as being a sufficiently inde- 
pendent x@dov to admit the syllaba anceps, is inexplica- 
ble if that syllable was really part of an ordinary spon- 
dee. That peculiar method of scanning which put the 
two half-feet into a spondee at the end, and so made 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 39 


certain that one felt the two feet preceding that arti- 
ficial final spondee as dactyls, looks the same way. 

Furthermore, all the testimony which looks the other 
way finds easy explanation. Although elegiacs con- 
tinued to be sung down to Horace’s time or later, they 
were not commonly sung, but recited or read. Nowa 
little unprejudiced experimenting will convince any one 
with an ear for rhythm and a good control over his own 
rhythmical performance that it is not difficult, in recit- 
ing or reading — personally I should say it is not diffi- 
cult in singing either — to pass from one method to the 
other, still observing exact time. Even for us this is 
not difficult, in spite of our habit of giving a sledge- 
hammer stress, in English and German, for the ictus. 
We make the middle spondee by giving equal stress to 
both syllables, and so effecting a shift in the rhythm, 
such as we often make unconsciously in prose and in 
common speech. I should think the middle spondee 
would be still less difficult fora Frenchman. For a Greek 
or Roman, who connected with the ictus or down-beat so 
slight a stress, at the utmost, that he was hardly con- 
scious of it, and made little or nothing of it in his the- 
ory, it must have been comparatively easy to make the 
transition from the original movement to that which 
perhaps in the later period, and in reading, became more 
or less current. Except for the great frequency of the 
meter, so that every one was perfectly familiar with the 
type, the elegiac pentameter would come clearly under 
the péca pértpa, or cbiaesaaati meters, of Aristides Q. 
His description is: 

Méca Sé Kxaretrat nerpa éte S00 Today avTiOérwv els 
petakd wirtwv, otkedtnTa mpos apmpotépous éywy, duc~ 
Sidxpitov trout tTHv Bdaow olov ei, éxxeuévou pev évos 
Saxtirov Sipérpov dé advarraictixod, Kata péoov mTécoL 


40 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


orrovoetos, 4dnrov mdrepa Svi0 dycopev elvat wéTpa, Td Mev 
SaxtuniKoy To 8 dvatratotixdy, dudw Sivetpa, 7 Td cbp- 
Tay TeTpapeTpov avarratoTixdy* Kal én’ ddrwv Se pérpov 
tavtov Oewpeitat, (P. 57 Mb.) 

The case is familiar enough: the true rhythm of 
—vyv——vvy—vv— cannot be determined without its 
setting. The sequence of syllables that make up the 
elegeion is equally ambiguous, — except indeed, as was 
said, that the type is so familiar. 

And yet, as we have seen in the case of Quintilian, 
not every one who spoke of a middle spondee is to be 
assumed to have had in mind this later method of reading. 
For it was a natural result of ignoring differences in 
length between syllables of the same general class, long 
or short, that a metrician might call any two successive 
long syllables a spondee, as he might call any long 
syllable followed by any two shorts a dactyl, any two 
shorts followed by any long an anapzst, and so on. 
Also, since the long was ordinarily and theoretically 
twice the length of a short, the metricus counted them 
so, and might sum up the “times” of any syllabic series 
on that basis. Unmistakable illustrations of both prac- 
tices are easily found, and in many cases lead to no 
misinterpretation. For example, in the passage before 
translated (p. 34) from Schol. B. to Hephaistion 
(p. 171 f. W.; 19 f. H.) the description of the édeyeiov 
begins: 

To dé édervyetov wérpov Tives ev TevTdmeTpov avTd hacw 
elvat, cvvtiOévres Tas pev S00 yapas avdTod, THY méVv TPwTHV 
kal thy Sevtépay, amd Saxtirov Kal orrovdelov adiadédpas, 
H apdiuaxpov 4 tadiwBaxyelov, Kalapav pévror Kal év 
rage. SaxTirwv Keievov, OS Kal év TO hpw“K@ elpnTat. 

Here we have the audiéuaxpos and tradkipBaxyetos in- 
cluded among the feet that may occur in the pentameter 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 41 


or hexameter; but we do not misunderstand the writer. 
He applies the name amphimacer, for example, to any 
succession of syllables that, taken by themselves, would 
be called respectively long, short, long. Such a “ foot” 
may stand for a dactyl whenever, in that particular com- 
bination, it is a dactyl, the last syllable being shortened 
before an initial vowel; but even in that case a metrician 
might still call it an amphimacer. To like effect Marius 
Vict. : 

Memineris autem saepe Graecos huic metro molossum 
et palimbacchium et creticum loco dactyli sub lege sylla- 
barum communium admiscere. nam et apud nos similis 
versus reperitur in quo primus amphimacrus est, ut 
‘insulae [onio in magno.’ (P. 72 K.) 

Again, near the close of his account of the iambic 
trimeter with its numerous permissible substitutions 
(p. 83 K.), Marius Vict. tells us: Et syllabarum quidem 
incrementa sic recipit ut a x1I syllabis ad xvit syllabas 
protendatur, temporum autem ita versus habet incre- 
menta, ut a XVIII temporibus ad XXIII porrigatur. 
Obviously he obtains the larger number of “ times” by 
counting one for every short and two for every long 
syllable anywhere admissible. No one is misled by this. 
If the irrational syllable existed anywhere it existed in 
iambic verse when a long syllable came where the pure 
iambic would have a short syllable; nor do I suppose 
Marius Vict. was unaware that his number twenty-four 
was correct only in a conventional sense. He cannot 
have supposed the line with the full number of substitu- 
tions to be really equal in length to the dactylic hexame- 
ter. So when Dionysios Hal. (De Comp. Verb. 18) 
analyzes clauses from the Periklean funeral oration. 
The first kolon, of pév roddol Trav évOdde 75n cipnkdrar, 
he divides into the following feet: first three spondees, 


42 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


then an anapest, then a spondee, then a cretic. The 
following kolon, érawotc. tov mpocbévta TO vdpw Tov 
Adyov tévde, he divides into two d7oBaxyeio, a cretic, 
again two vu7of8axyeto, and a final syllable. It is in- 
credible that the rhetor supposed he was describing the 
actual spoken rhythm, in the sense of Aristoxenos; he 
was giving the quantities of the syllables in the conven- 
tional way, and his readers so understood him. Quinti- 
lian was doing the same in speaking of ‘ criminis causa’ 
and illustrating the ‘latens tempus’ between those 
words by the ‘pentametri medius spondius.’ 

But enough has been said, I hope, to show that the 
point of view and method of treatment adopted by the 
metricus were not only older than those of Aristoxenos, 
but also natural and reasonable; that some doctrines of 
the metrici, when interpreted in the sense intended, 
though seemingly at variance with Aristoxenos, are in 
fact in harmony with his doctrines, and true. 

There is farther an interesting series of passages de- 
fining or describing fuvOuds, most of them carefully 
differentiating this from pérpov. The most suggestive 
of these are subjoined, with some comments. 

(1) ‘Pu pos été éort; —(a) ypdvov Katapétpnots pera 
KLYnTEWS YyLvomevn TroLds Tivos. (b) Kata dé Paidpor pvO- 
pos éott cvAAABOY KELMevaV TAS TPOS GAAHAAaS EupeTpos 
Ogos. (c) kata dé ’Apioto£evov ypdvos Sinpnudvos éf’ 
éxdot@ Tav puOuiferOar Suvapévwv. (d) kata dé Nixo- 
payov ypdvev evtaxtos Kivnols. (e) kata 5é Aeddavtov 
ypdvev cvvOects KaTa avadoyiav Te Kal cupmeTplay pds 
éavTovs Oewpovpévov. (f) cata dé Aidvpov davis trovas 
CXNMATLITUGS. — Mev odv havn Tolws oxnpaTicbeioa 
puO mov arrotenei, yiverat Sé odTos 7) mepl rAéEW H TeEpL 
béXos 7 TEepl cwpaTtixyny Kivnowv. (Baccheios 98, p. 3138 J.) 

It is plain that definitions (a), (¢), (d), (e), and the 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 43 


last clause (yiveraz 6é, etc.), regard rhythm as primarily 
a matter of “ times”; while definition (f), and still more 
clearly (b), start from the syllable, that is, are “ meitri- 
cal” in character. Yet it is equally plain that these 
definitions are not inconsistent with one another. They 
differ in extension, and in degree of precision and lucid- 
ity; but so far as it goes (b) is entirely sound. As v. 
Jan points out in his edition (p. 289 f.) the entire pass- 
age 89-101 shows a similar mingling, and reminds one of 
the cupmrckcovtes Ty peTpixn Yewpia tHv tept puvOuar 
texvoroyiav. Again, among definitions of rovs dis- 
cussed by Hoerschelmann (Ein gr. Lehrbuch d. Metrik, 
p- 25 ff.) distinctively “metrical” in character, such an 
addition as the clause é& dv [or év ais] yvwpifopev rd Tod 
pétpou eldds te kal péyeOos is identical in substance, as 
far as it goes, with the definition of Aristoxenos, 6 
onpavouela Tov pvOpmov Kal yvepipov TroLodmev TH alcOn- 
cet. So in the various lists of feet, those who arrange 
these according to the number of xypévor, like Dionysios 
Hal. and Hephaistion, in so far approach the “ rhythmi- 
cal” view. 

(2) ‘O 8 adrés puO pds ovre mrepl ypaypdrwv ovTe trepl 
cvrAdaBav Toeitat TOV AdyoV, GAAA TeEpl TOV yYpdvwr, TA 
[rods P.] wéev éxreivew Kedevwv ta [Tods P.] b& cvvayev 
Tovs d€ icous Troleiv AAANAOLS. Kal TOUTO Tole, peVOVT@V 
TOV cUANABOV Kal TOV ypaupadtov. (Excerpta Neapol. 21, 
p. 418 J.) 

When read in connection with the remarks above 
cited (p. 16 f.) from Aristotle and Plato, this excerpt is 
seen to contain a polemic recognition of the metrici. 
Especially noteworthy is the last sentence. It accords 
perfectly with Aristoxenos in teaching that, while syl- 
lables and letters remain, with no diminution of essential 
characteristics, the times or quantities of the same syl- 


44 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


lables may vary. Therefore we are forced, if we would 
deal adequately with rhythm in language, to go behind 
the syllable and its parts, keep our attention on the 
time-intervals, and consistently treat these, rather than 
syllables, as the real elements of rhythm. 

(3) Avadéper pu@uod To wétpov 4 TO ev pérpov Trern- 
yéras éxet Tos ypdvous, waxpdv Te Kal Bpaydv Kal Tov 
peTa&d ToUT@Y TAY KOLVOY KaXovpLEVO?Y, OS Kal aUTOS TaVTwS 
pakpds éott Kal Bpayts, o S& puOwds ws Bovrerar ErKee 
TOUS Ypdvous* MoANaKis yoov Kal Tov Bpaydy ypdvov Totet 
paxpov. (Longinus on Heph., p. 84 W; p. 2 H.) 

With this must be considered the two following. 

(4) Rhythmus est pedum temporumque iunctura velox 
divisa in arsin et thesin vel tempus quo syllabas meti- 
mur... differt autem rhythmus a metro, quod metrum 
in verbis, rhythmus in modulatione ac motu corporis 
sit; et quod metrum pedum sit quedam compositio, 
rhythmus autem temporum inter se ordo quidam; et 
quod metrum certo numero syllabarum vel pedum fini- 
tum sit, rhythmus autem numquam numero circumscrib- 
atur. nam ut volet protrahit tempora, ita ut breve 
tempus plerumque longum efficiat, longum contrahat. 
(Marius Vict., p. 41 f. K.) 

(5) Inter metrum et rhythmum hoc interest, quod 
metrum circa divisionem pedum versatur, rhythmus 
circa sonum, quod etiam metrum sine plasmate prolatum 
proprietatem suam servat, rhythmus autem numquam 
sine plasmate valebit. (Atilius Fortun., p. 282 K.) 

That these three passages are closely related is clear, 
as also that all alike imply a true notion of the nature 
of rhythm. The words ‘temporum inter se ordo quidam’ 
are a perfect translation of Aristoxenos’s definition 
xpdvev Takis apopicuévyn. But in them all appears also 
a conception of ‘metrum’ that calls for closer attention. 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 45 


The conception includes these factors. First, ‘metrum’ 
is concerned with words and syllables, not with other 
pvOuSoueva, So far we are on old ground. But sec- 
ondly, the times employed are fixed, long or short, as 
over against ‘rhythmus,’ which varies the ratios greatly. 
Thirdly, a series of words that falls under the concep- 
tion of ‘metrum’ (1. ¢., a concrete ‘metrum ”) exhibits its 
proper character as ‘metrum’ when pronounced in a sim- 
ple manner, with no modulation of the syllables in order 
to make the time intervals more perfectly rhythmical ; 
in contrast herewith, ‘rhythmus’ will never be quite right 
without such modulation or moulding (7Adcpa) of the 
times. The last mentioned factor in the conception of 
‘metrum’ is clearly stated only in the sentence from Atil- 
ius; but that sentence furnishes the most natural ex- 
planation of the phrases remnydras éye Tods ypdvous 
and ‘certo numero syllabarum vel pedum finitum,’ over 
against the phrases ws BovAerar Eder Tods ypdvous and 
‘ut volet protrahit tempora,’ etc. That interpretation is 
confirmed by the following. 

(6) Siqua autem apud poetas lyricos aut tragicos 
quispiam reppererit, in quibus certa pedum conlocatione 
neglecta sola temporum ratio considerata sit, meminerit 
ea, sicut apud doctissimos quosque scriptum invenimus, 
non metra sed rhythmos appellari oportere. scribimus 
igitur ita de metris, ut ab his rhythmos procul remove- 
amus, atque in his omnino nullum sit, in quo non pedum 
defixa ratio cum dulcedine adsociata atque permixta sit. 
(Mallus Theodorus, p. 586 K.) 

Taken together, then, the four preceding passages tell 
us this. Some of the metrici—should we not say all, 
so far as we have them? —recognized that the syllabic 
principle, with its fixed ratio of 2: 1, was not adequate 
to explain the rhythm of many passages in the lyric and 


46 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


tragic poets; they accordingly got around the difficulty 
by making a division between meters. Those in which 
they perceived the rhythm to be too complicated for the 
“metrical” theory to explain passably were set off as 
pvOpuot, and left to be elucidated by the puvOmixol and 
povotxol; those which the “ metrical” theory seemed to 
describe adequately —in which, namely, the ratio 2:1 
was not in too crying contradiction to the facts — they 
retained as the proper sphere of metric.1 The latter — 
the metra in this special sense —included all of the 
recitative and march type and the simpler melic forms, 

—all in which a single line or a brief strophe was many 
— times repeated with slight variation or none; this covers 
all the poems of Horace and Catullus, forexample. The 
pv@uot on the other hand, such as the more elaborate 
and varied strophes of choral lyric or of the monodic 
Kdppor and pérAn ard oxnvas of tragedy, they did not 
meddle with. Accordingly we find that our metrici in 
fact hardly touch upon those more complicated melic — 
forms. In precisely that portion of ancient poetry 
where we find the greatest difficulty in understanding 
the versification the metrici give us no help. As regards 
the conception of Marius Vict., the above passage is 
supplemented by others. In the section on feet (p. 43 
f. K.) he defines the foot, in full accord with Aristox- 
enos, as ‘certus modus syllabarum quo cognoscimus to- 
tius metri speciem, compositus ex sublatione et posi- 
tione.’ Then, as the final item in his elucidation of the 
definition, he adds: 

(7) Inter pedem autem et rhythmum hoc interest, 
quod pes sine rhythmo esse non potest, rhythmus autem 
sine pede decurrit. non enim gradiuntur mele pedum 
mensionibus, sed rhythmis fiunt. (P. 44 K.) 


1 Cf. Christ, Metrik, pp. 88-92. 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 47 


As above, two senses of ‘rhythmus’ must be distin- 
guished, namely, the abstract sense, rhythm, and the 
concrete sense, a combination of syllables or words con- 
stituting a “rhythmus.” Thus in English paraphrase: 
*‘ Between foot and ‘rhythmus’ there is this difference, 
that a foot cannot exist without rhythm, but a ‘rhyth- 
mus’ moves rhythmically without being divisible into 
feet.” If one starts with the universal ancient idea of 
the foot, then mwéAn in which a ovAdaP%) Tplonmos or 
tetpdonmos often takes the place of the complete foot, 
not merely the end of a kolon but within it, obviously 
do not “‘advance by the measurements of feet,” and the 
movement cannot be adequately described by naming 
the foot, or dividing it into feet. The rhythm of such 
a melic strophe is made up of “rhythmi.” And in 
the first sentence of the passage (4) above our author is 
careful to say that “rhythmus ” is a combination of feet 
and times, divided into arsis and thesis or time [the 
xpoves mpatos?] by which we measure syllables. 
Marius Vict. does not attempt to describe such péAn, 
made up of “rhythmi;” he does not include them in 
his special field, but leaves them to the rhythmici and 
the musicians. 

The section of Marius Vict. de pedibus (pp. 48-50 K.) 
is followed by the section de metris. The author is 
here considering in general terms the ‘metra’ that consti- 
tute his own field, leaving out of view the freer varieties of 
lyric. He begins by describing ‘metrum’ as a ‘ compositio 
pedum ad certum finem deducta seu dictionum quantitas 
et qualitas pedibus terminata vel rhythmus modis finitus.’ 
Obviously ‘rhythmus’ here is not a piece of freer lyric, 
but simply a rhythmical composition in language, within 
the limits of the general class which he is here consider- 
ing; he describes ‘metrum’ in three ways, after the 


48 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


fashion common to this author, all three being substan- 
tially equivalent to one another. He proceeds: Prima 
autem metra sunt syllaba brevis et syllaba longa; ex his 
enim metimur ipsos pedes ac rursus ex pedibus metra et 
deinceps de metris carmina. Here ‘ metra’ is employed in 
two senses, first in the general sense of measures, then 
in the technical sense of definite pieces of metrical 
(not freer lyric) compositions. Next are’named four 
classes of ‘ metra,’ namely ‘epica, melica, comica, tragica,’ 
which he goes on to describe. The description of the 
second class is interesting. It is, in full: 

(8) Melicum autem sive lyricum, quod ad modula- 
tionem lyrae citharaeve componitur, sicut fecit Alcaeus 
et Sappho, quos plurimum est secutus Horatius. car- 
men autem lyricum, quamvis metro subsistat, potest 
tamen videri extra legem metri esse, quia libero scriben- 
tis arbitrio per rhythmos exigitur. (P. 50 K.) 

Are we to suppose here an utter confusion of thought 
and terminology? That is surely incredible. But in » 
that case the last sentence contains a pretty clear recog- 
nition of the fact that such lyric meters as those of the 
poets named occupy a peculiar position in relation to 
those two artificial classes, of ‘metra’ and ‘ rhythmi.’ 
They are «édn, they contain such mingling of prolonged 
syllables with feet of different yévn that the “ metrical ” 
ratio of 2:1 fails to account for the rhythm. On the 
other hand, they employ a comparatively small number 
of often repeated lines or brief stanzas, of fixed types; 
these can be accurately described and easily learned ; 
the poet does not, like Pindar, or like the Attic drama- 
tists in their lyric parts, disconcert the barbarian reader 
by inventing new forms and combinations for every new 
poem. This comparative fixity of type enables the 
metrician to include them under the ‘metra’; yet our 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 49 


author perceives that they are ‘rhythmi’ as well. A 
hard and fast line between the classes cannot be drawn. 

‘There is also in Quintilian (1X, 4, 45-51) an interesting 
discussion of ‘numeri’ (here, as he explains, equivalent 
to ‘rhythmi”) and ‘metra,’ which traverses much the same 
ground ; the difference in phraseology offers a good test 
of our interpretation. I select a few clauses only. 
‘Although both consist of feet, yet they differ in several 
ways. Nam primum numeri spatio temporum constant, 
metra etiam ordine, ideoque alterum esse quantitatis 
videtur, alterum qualitatis.’ That is,in a ‘metrum’ the 
sequence of feet, syllables, and times is fixed; the poet 
was not free to vary these, except within very narrow 
limits; while in writing ‘numeri’ great freedom was 
allowed, if the due ‘spatium temporis’ was observed. 
A little later he proceeds : 

(9) Sunt et illa discrimina, . . . quod metrum in verbis 
modo, rhythmos etiam in corporis motu est. inania quo- 
que tempora rhythmi facilius accipient, quamquam haec 
et in metris accidunt. maior tamen illic licentia est, ubi 
tempora etiam [animo] metiuntur et pedum et digito- 
rum ictu, et intervalla signant quibusdam notis atque 
aestimant, quot breves illud spatium habeat; inde terpd- 
onpol, mevrdonpwot, deinceps longiores sunt percussiones, 
nam onpetov tempus est unum. 

Especially noteworthy is the plain statement that 
rests (‘inania tempora,’ cevol ypdvor) occur in ‘ metra,’ 
though naturally more freely in ‘rhythmi,’ where the 
performer or leader beats time, and where the composer 
adds, if necessary, signs that indicate the longer time- 
intervals. 

Still another remark of Marius Vict. farther sets 
forth his view of ‘rhythmi’ or wéA7n. 

(10) Hine procul dubio intelligi datur prosam numeris 

4. 


50 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


subsistere. nam et Aristoteles, homo sublimis ingenii, 
praecipit numeros esse in oratione oportere, ita tamen ne 
versus incurrant, qui saepe imprudentibus subrepunt, 
quod et Cicero in Oratore suo tangit, ipsa quoque lyrica 
poemata sublata modulatione vocis non ultra solutam 
orationem procurrunt. (P. 113 K.) 

This passage immediately follows that quoted above 
(p. 35) on the pentameter, to which ‘hinc’ refers back. 
Each paragraph throws light on the other; and if the 
reader desires to see them in their true relation he will 
do well to turn to them in Keil’s pages. I take this 
meaning to be clearly involved in them. In the illus- 
trative pentameters which Marius Vict. has just given 
a certain slight degree of ‘modulatio’ or mwAdopa is 
requisite in order to produce the verse; without that they 
are prose, containing ‘numeri’ indeed, but not making, 
to his ear, a true ‘ versus.’ This enables us to see beyond 
question, he says, how prose should contain (as Aristotle 
and Cicero direct) ‘numeri’ but not ‘versus.’ Again, even 
lyric poems (that is wéAn), like the pentameters quoted, 
if you take away that still higher degree of ‘modulatio 
vocis’ (that is mAdopma, the more exact observance of 
rhythm that goes naturally with the singing voice), 
become in their movement nowise different from rhyth- 
mical prose. In other terms we might say: the cvAXa Bal 
tplonwot and tetpdonwo of the full musical rendering 
are in such “unmodulated” rendering not fully pre- 
served; pauses and shifts of rhythm take their place in 
a degree sufficient (the degree need not be great) to 
obscure the full musical rhythm, and change it to the 
less consistent rhythm, more shifting and less easily 
noted in exact ratios, that pleases in good prose. For 
the sake of the little additional light on this matter of 
mrdopa, the following is added from Aristides Q.: 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 51 


(11) ‘PuOpds Sé [voetrar] Ka airov pév eri Wirhs dp- 
yioews, meTa S€ wédous év K@AoLS, meTa O€ AE€Ecws pdvns 
él TOV TrolnuadT@Vv peTa TeTAATHEYNS UTroKpicews, olov 
tav Lwrddou Kai tev TowovTav. (P. 32 Mb.) 

That is (taking into account the context): “ Rhythm 
without tune or words is perceived in unaccompanied 
dancing; combined with tune it is perceived in passages 
of instrumental music; combined with speech alone, 
in poems declaimed with a ‘moulded’ delivery, as those 
of Sotades and the like.” The degree of mddopa 
here intended need not be very great. Presumably it 
would be about what we are all accustomed to in public 
recitation of poetry; such a degree as Probus had in 
mind in saying: Item Aeneida quoniam plasmate legi 
volebat, ait “arma virumque cano” (cited by Keil on 
Atilius Fort., p. 282 K.). That is, we are not to suppose 
that mAdopa implied great artificiality or extraordinary 
prolongations and contractions. The phenomenon thus 
named is one perfectly familiar to us in modern speech 
and verse, as we shall have occasion to note in the next 
chapter. 

One more passage is worth citing here, though it deals 
with the contrast, not between ‘ metrum’ and ‘ rhythmus,’ 
but between prose and ‘rhythmus.’ 

(12) ‘H pév yap meln ré£s oddevos ovr’ dvduaros ovTe 
pnmatos Buadferar Tods ypdvous ovdé petaTiOnow, add’ olas 
wapelrAndhe TH ioe TAS cvAAABAS Tas TE waKpas Kal TAS 
Bpayeias, Toravras durdrre. 1 5é pvOmixy Kal pmovotky 
uetaBdrXovew avTas petotoat Kal avfEovaai, doe TOA- 
AdKis eis TA evavTia peTaywpeiv. ov yap Tais cvAdAaBais 
amevOuvovet Tors ypdvous ANA Tols ypdvols TAS TUANABAS. 
(De Comp. Verb. 11, p. 184 Sch.) 

The first sentence of this touches a matter to be con- 
sidered later; its value at present lies in the force given 


52 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


by contrast to the remainder. And in that, the two 
remaining sentences, we find ample recognition of the 
fact that in Greek lyric meters, so far as they come 
under what we have seen called wéAn and puOuoi or 
‘rhythmi,’ long and short syllables alike were more 
or less variable. In some way —just how, we will not 
yet consider—the reader knew in what rhythmical 
scheme or pattern the poet intended the verses to be 
rendered. ‘To reproduce the rhythmical pattern which 
the poet had in mind, the singer, if not also the reader, 
made some long syllables longer and others shorter than 
two xpdvor mperot, and made some short syllables longer 
than one ypévos mparos. It seemed to Dionysios in 
those cases that one did not so much regulate the times 
by the syllables, but rather regulated the syllables by 
the times. It is highly probable that Dionysios here 
draws from some earlier writer; but whether he does or 
not, we cannot suppose that in the time of Augustus 
such statements, by a man like Dionysios, are in any 
degree suggested by a breaking down of the sense for 
the classical quantities. On the other hand, the follow- 
ing contains an unmistakable reference to the medieval 
and modern principle. 

(13) Metrum poeticum quid est? versificandi dis- 
ciplina certa syllabarum ac temporum ratione in pedibus 
observata. metrum unde dictum? quod veluti men- 
suram quandam praestituat, a qua siquid plus minusve 
erit, pes sive versus minime constabit. metro quid vide- 
tur esse consimile? rhythmus. rhythmus quid est? 
verborum modulata compositio non metrica ratione, sed 
numerosa scansione ad iudicium aurium examinata, ut 
puta veluti sunt cantica poetarum vulgarium.: rhyth- 
mus ergo in metro non est? potest esse. quid ergo 
distat a metro? quod rhythmus per se sine metro esse 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 53 


potest, metrum sine rhythmo esse non potest. quod 
liquidius ita definitur, metrum est ratio cum modulatione, 
rhythmus sine ratione metrica modulatio, plerumque 
tamen casu quodam etiam invenies rationem metricam 
in rhythmo, non artificii observatione servata, sed sono 
et ipsa modulatione ducente. (Ars Palaemonis de Met- 
rica, p. 206 f. K.) 


The clause ‘ ut puta veluti sunt cantica poetarum vul- 
garium’ leaves no doubt what ‘ rhythmus’ refers to in this 
little dialogue. Though the form of statement is influ- 
enced by the older doctrine, exhibited in the extracts 
preceding, what is here contrasted with ‘metrum’ is not 
the old péAn, the “rhythmi” of Marius Vict., but the 
modern songs of the poets of the people. We have 
reached now a new meaning of ‘rhythmus’ and ‘ rhythmi,’ 
the medieval usage. To the new style of accentual 
Latin verse the term ‘ rhythmus’ was now applied, in con- 
trast with the old quantitative verse, or ‘metrum.’ This 
interesting subject falls outside the scope of these chap- 
ters: it is the central point in Kawcezynski’s book, before 
cited, where it is discussed at length (p. 115 ff.) and 
other testimonies collected.} 

Through the foregoing survey, if our metrical friends 
have been rightly interpreted, we have arrived at some 
conclusions that are of value for farther investigation. 

First, contemptuous rejection of clear and consistent 
teaching of the metrici is unwise and likely to lead 
astray. Sympathetic study is not thrown away on them, 
even the most foolish of them. They are sometimes in- 
consistent with one another and with themselves; some- 
times it can be proved beyond a doubt that one is wrong; 

1 Kawcezynski’s chapters, IV-VI, traverse in part the ground gone 


over in the preceding pages. They show much acuteness, but also too 
large an admixture of error. 


54 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


in that case we need not treat his mistake as anything 
else than what it is. But not a little which has been 
called nonsense is really very good sense when under- 
stood. Westphal long ago noted how remarkably some 
of the very latest among them have preserved for us 
good and sound doctrine from an early period. By the 
fourth century B. Cc. there was already in existence a 
large body of well settled metrical tradition; each new 
writer varied this more or less, but in general it was 
handed on from generation to generation with little 
change, the agreement often extending to small verbal 
details. Our school-books on arithmetic, or on grammar, 
are fair modern parallels; textbooks of geometry and of 
logic have come down in a similar way from antiquity, 
remaining in current use, without being affected in any 
degree that could be called transforming, until quite 
recently. That long transmission of a large traditional 
system makes the study of sources for any given hand- 
book both enticing and exceedingly slippery. 

Secondly, we must not expect to find in the metrici 
adequate explanation of the more complicated and diffi- 
cult lyric meters. They left that, consciously and on 
principle, to others, and restricted themselves in general 
to meters which they were accustomed to read and to 
hear read and recited. These they treated with little or 
no reference to the actual times of syllables, when the 
ratios were something else than the conventional 1: 1 
and 2:1. For the melic rhythms in general, particularly 
the freer forms, we have to fall back on Aristoxenos, 
and interpret by him the descriptions and scattered hints 
supplied by the metrici. If a real contradiction is found 
between him and the latter, we can but follow Aristox- 
enos as the better guide. 

Finally, the teachings of the metrici cannot be accepted 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 55 


without caution ; we must first of all exercise the utmost 
care to discover the precise sense intended. Their stand- 
point, while natural and rational, was different from 
that of Aristoxenos; the same facts, viewed at such dif- 
ferent angles, and then stated in terms that bore a par- 
tially different meaning in the two systems, are not al- 
ways easily recognizable as the same. Their method, 
while not seriously defective for their purposes and their 
contemporaries, is for us defective and apt to mislead, 
even in regard to recitative verse. If we would keep our 
minds clear in regard to rhythm in language, we must 
go back of the syllable and keep steadily in view always 
the time, the time-intervals, and the combinations of 
time-intervals, embodied in the words. What we seek is 
the actual rhythms of ancient verse, as these reached 
the ear and moved the soul of the Greek listener; to that 
end alone are the old metricians worth our study. The 
end is worth a great deal, and is difficult to attain; there- 
fore anything, in methods of study or of presentation, 
that hinders its attainment should be put aside, and the 
end should be sought in the most direct way. Now the 
methods that specially characterize the metrici, as against 
Aristoxenos, though probably not a hindrance to the 
mass of their contemporaries, are to us a hindrance; to 
us they often do not state the facts without frequent, 
and frequently changing, reinterpretation of their form 
of statement into another form. Here is a constant 
source of difficulty and of tendency to misunderstanding, 
not only for beginners, but also, as we have seen, for 
well trained Hellenists and even specialists in metric. 
Keeping in view the real facts of rhythm, as the verses 
fell from the lips of the ancient reader and singer, we 
should make our terminology and entire mode of state- 
ment conform to those facts and present them as directly 


56 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


as possible, with the minimum of ambiguity or of neces- 
sity for reinterpretation. Therefore in describing even 
the simplest meters it is better to employ every available 
device for enabling us to say exactly what we mean. It 
is better not to say spondee when we mean an irrational 
trochee, and then again speak of the middle spondee of 
the elegiac pentameter when we mean a tetraseme plus 
a two-timed long; and so in other cases. In writing 
metrical schemes the marks for long and short alone add 
nothing, in themselves, to the rhythmical notation con- 
_ tained in the words. The ancients employed, when they 
needed them, precise terms and unambiguous signs for 
triseme, tetraseme, rests, the location of the down- and 
up-beat. We need these constantly and had better use 
them, though the metrici did not. We need also an unam- 
biguous sign for an irrational syllable; the sign > has 
been widely adopted for that purpose; it is better to use 
it than either to invent another or to go without any. 
In all these matters the utmost precision in recording 
and describing rhythms is none too great. 

Yet one more point. In the study and teaching of 
the other aspects of language we have taken what the 
Greeks taught us, and after mastering their facts and 
their system of statement we have gone beneath and 
beyond the ancient system, not hesitating to recast it 
completely, bringing to bear on the subject not only 
many new phenomena but also an improved method 
which the Greeks could not know. All departments of 
grammar are still undergoing that recasting process. 
The same process— though perhaps in less degree — is 
naturally to be expected in the study of this aspect also 
of the Greek language. I have sufficiently emphasized 
the point that the first step in that process must be the 
more complete mastery of the ancient learning. But we 


RHYTHMICUS OR METRICUS? 57 


should no more expect to stop with that than we expect 
to stop. with the ancient learning in morphology or 
syntax. And the line of advance toward this desidera- 
tum, a better and fuller knowledge of the rhythms of 
Greek poetry, and a knowledge arranged in a better 
system, lies along the path opened by Aristoxenos. 


‘I 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 


No better definition of rhythm has been given, or 
need be sought, than that of Aristoxenos, ypévev rakis 
apwpiouevn, temporum inter se ordo quidam, a definite 
arrangement of times. This is probably the earliest, 
certainly the most widely current, technical sense of 
puOuds among the Greeks. When they called a statue 
’ evpvO mos, or said that a person walked edpt@uws, and the 
like,t these were probably figurative applications of the 
technical term; though it is true such uses may have 
been independently developed from the early meaning, 
order, or law, which the word has in the line of 
Archilochos, 


ylyvacke © ofos puopos avOpamovs éyxet. 


The essential identity and the specific characteristics of 
rhythm in many activities of life, nature, and art were 
accurately noted and described by Aristoxenos. It is 
the more to be regretted that many people — more 
especially in English-speaking countries — whose studies 
have not familiarized them with this department of 
Greek science, still use the term, and even define it, in 
a loose, confused, and utterly unscientific way. Partic- 
ularly on the subject of modern verse we too often hear 
and read statements which their authors could not pos- 
sibly have made, had their minds been clear as to what 
rhythm is. In all such technical discussion no other 


1 Aristid. Q. 1 18, p. 31 Mb. 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 59 


sense of the word rhythm should be for a moment 
admitted than that so clearly laid down by Aristoxenos. 

It is an aid toward precision of thought to hold fast 
an accurate idea of the relations, both of analogy and of 
contrast, between rhythm in time and symmetry in 
space. As to the latter, there is little danger of con- 
fusion. What presents itself to the eye primarily and 
constantly, and is by nature more abiding, is more easily 
grasped and more readily becomes in correct form a part 
of the unconscious mental outfit; rhythm presents itself 
most often to the ear, and whether heard or seen, it is by 
its nature temporary and unstable, a series of phenom- 
ena in unceasing flight. We may call symmetry a due 
proportion, in relation to each other, of the parts of 
something in space. Absolute equality of parts is not 
essential; but approximate equality or easily discerned 
simple ratio, of extent or of effect upon the sight in 
the larger parts, is essential. Starting from this idea 
we might describe rhythm as due proportion, in relation 
to each other, of the parts of something in time, —or 
more abstractly, as due proportion in time-intervals. 
This description is correct as far as it goes, but is defec- 
tive, because it omits one element. This element is due 
to the difference between space and time, and to the 
limitations of our senses. Due proportion of parts is 
perceived in space when the parts are few,—is per- 
ceived best when the object readily divides itself to the 
sight into halves, as a leaf, or the human figure in a front 
view, so that the main parts are but two, within which 
the minor parts may, without confusion and with in- 
creased pleasure to the spectator, bear to each other 
proportions very complicated. The parts exist contem- 
poraneously ; the symmetrical whole commonly remains 
under observation unchanged for some time; thus the 


60 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


mind is able to grasp, and to analyze in detail if it will, 
extremely complex relations of space in the parts, pro- 
vided those main groups of parts are plainly marked, 
and are but few, preferably two. In time, however, due 
proportion of numerous parts is not perceived so read- 
ily, if at all, unless the number of distinctly marked 
groups is larger, extending to at least three, preferably 
more. No two groups of times, no two parts of the . 
smallest time group, are contemporaneous, or can remain 
under contemplation together except in the memory. 
Hence repetition is necessary. An amount of repetition 
which in space would seem monotonous, or at best an 
example of very simple art, does not seem so in time, 
but aids the memory and gives pleasure. The form of 
symmetry that is most closely analogous to rhythm is 
that of a long, narrow and not too intricate pattern 
consisting of a short pattern many times repeated. Ex- 
amples are the meanders, the lotos patterns, the egg-and- 
dart mouldings and other ornamental bands so frequent’ 
in Greek art, or our edgings of lace and embroidery, and 
ornamental bands and borders in general. The rows of 
figures around a dipylon vase are still within the requi- 
site limits of regularity; those of the Frangois vase are 
too free. The alternating triglyphs and metopes of the 
Parthenon are a fine parallel; the Panathenaic frieze 
lacks the needful articulation. An arrangement of 
times that should be analogous to the symmetry of a fine 
pediment composition, or to any of the painted groups in 
the Sixtine Chapel or the Stanze of Raphael, would 
never be recognized as rhythmical, unless at the same 
time there ran through the whole, comprehending all 
the parts, a simpler system of grouping, analogous to 
that of the meander. An ode of Pindar, or a movement 
of a symphony, is held together and unified by the 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 61 


repetition of a small group of times, the measure or foot 
or the like; on that substratum, out of that continu- 
ously repeated though varied small group, are formed, 
by the aid of recurring variation in time and melody 
(and in Pindar of the dance), concepts of larger and yet 
larger groups, until, by repetition of groups both smaller 
and larger, the senses are sufficiently impressed to enable 
the memory to retain and the mind to comprehend a 
notion of the whole as one. To such a work a good 
parallel — comparing, of course, only the rhythm of one 
and the symmetry of the other —is a fine oriental rug of 
rich pattern and coloring. Yet it has been well noted 
that a complex work of art in space, particularly in 
three dimensions—say a temple or a statue —is not 
wholly unlike a complex piece of rhythm, as regards our 
method of acquiring an idea of the whole. In both 
memory has something to do, for the eye does not see 
all parts at once; after viewing a statue or temple from 
all sides, and a temple from the inside as well as from 
without, the various parts in temporal succession, the 
unifying must then be done by the aid of memory, as 
in the case of rhythm. But though this is true, yet 
in successive viewing of parts the time element and the 
consequent agency of memory are so much less funda- 
mental than with a work of rhythm, that the resemblance 
has little effect in diminishing the great practical 
difference. 

One other factor in the definition of rhythm must be 
insisted on, though it is tacitly assumed in the foregoing 
illustrations. The simple repetition of equal undivided 
and undifferentiated time-intervals does not produce 
rhythm. There must be a ras, an arrangement of 
times inter se. An unchanging single drum-beat recur- 
ring every two-thirds of a second would produce nothing 


62 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


but a succession of equal times, though experiments have 
shown that the great majority of listeners would invol- 
untarily imagine some difference between the sounds or 
the intervals, and so by a purely psychological process 
would differentiate the times, group them, and imagine 
a rhythm where objectively there was none. But if in 
that succession of unchanging drum-beats, beginning 
anywhere, you omit the second, fourth, and eighth, you 
will make a grouping of times; that series repeated is 
our simplest drum-rhythm for marching. The action of 
walking, in which the feet alternately are lifted, moved 
forward, and placed, with endlessly various play of 
muscles, produces another grouping, extremely complex _ 
to the eye and to the muscular sense of the walker, 
though to the ear, when audible at all, a rather simple 
one. This necessity of a rd&s in rhythm is the more to 
be insisted on because many writers on modern verse- 
rhythm ignore it. | 
In recent years rhythm has been, and continues to be, 
the subject of many-sided investigation. Physicists and 
naturalists of every sort have been compelled to take 
large account of this factor in the phenomena of nature. 
Periodicity, always obvious to man in the procession of 
the seasons, in the lunar phases, in the alternation of 
day and night, is discovered to characterize about every 
kind of motion and change that the student of physics 
can measure. The periodicity of astronomical and inor- 
ganic forces is reflected in the life of plants and animals 
of every grade, in health and in disease. The physio- 
logical rhythms of respiration and the heart’s beating are 
but types; in all vital processes biologists find similar 
laws. The simplest cell, whose growth can be followed 
only under the microscope, is subject to them, no less 
than the highest animal organism. Psychologists, too, 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 63 


find that all the activities of the human mind exhibit 
rhythm in great variety ; there is a constantly lengthen- 
ing series of special investigations along this line. This 
is not the place to recapitulate these studies of rhythm,? 
so numerous and so various, nor even to summarize 
their results. But without some realization of the ex- 
tent to which rhythm pervades the kosmos, including 
the unconscious life of man, one is liable to approach 
the subject of rhythm in language with prepossessions 
so deep-rooted that argument on some points will be 
wasted. 

In harmony with the unconscious, involuntary rhythms 
of the human organism, in part certainly and perhaps 
wholly the consequence of them, is the fact that rhythm 
in the broad sense pervades also all of man’s conscious 
and voluntary action. Alternating exertion and repose, 
tension and relaxation, is a law of the life that is regu- 
lated by will, from the larger tasks and recreations to the 
movement of the smallest muscle. But for our purposes 
this broader sense of the term must be narrowed. We 
are concerned only with forms of rhythm in which the 
lesser time-intervals that make the larger pattern are 
comparatively short. Absolute limits can hardly be 
given; but experiments appear to show that if the short- 
est unit is as long as two seconds, the mind does not 
coordinate the intervals and group them distinctly enough 
to be conscious of a rhythm. On the other hand, if the 
intervals are too short the mind does not separate them ; 
they run together instead of forming groups; but of 
course continuous tones that vary regularly in pitch or 
intensity, or continuous movements that regularly change 
their direction, may by those regular variations divide 

1 See Bolton, Rhythm, in Am. J. Psych., VI, pp. 145-238; Wundt, 
Volkerpsychologie, Ch. VII; Studies from Yale Psych. Lab., [X. 


64 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


time into intervals that fall within the necessary limits 
and are perceived as a rhythm. 

Now the fundamental fact, for our present purpose, 
is this. All activities of man that are regulated by his 
will he puts into a perceptible rhythm, so far as they 
admit such treatment without violating requirements 
that to his mind take precedence. Man is not merely a 
rhythmical animal, as all animals are; he is a rhythmiz- 
ing animal, as truly as he is a political animal. As 
men tend to unite into political communities, so the 
individual tends to rhythmize everything that he comfort- 
ably can. This tendency is not simply a matter of musi- 
cal endowment, possessed by some and not by others; it 
controls more or less fully every human being, generally 
without his being aware of it. The individual merely 
acts in the way that he finds easiest or most natural; 
and he acts in rhythm. There are said to be people who 
cannot keep step to a drum, or with a companion; if so, 
the defect is in the power of codrdinating their action 
‘with something external, with a rhythm set by some- 
thing from without. But even one who has that de- 
fect makes no end of perfect rhythms of his own. He 
makes his own steps equal, or if unequal then regu- 
larly unequal; if he drives a nail or curries a horse or 
rows a boat or chews his food or drinks a glass of water, 
he makes as good rhythms as any one else. The ten- 
dency appears to be absolutely universal; the only differ- 
ence between people in this regard lies in the degree of 
consciousness of the rhythm one is producing, and the 
consequent power of controlling and consciously varying 
the rhythmic movement. ‘There, it is true, people differ 
very much, and still more in the power of isolating and 
describing rhythms which they make or see or hear. 
But that does not affect the truth of the statement just 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 65 


made. It is a universal law that man is a creature who 
rhythmizes, in the strictest sense given to the term, 
every kind of action that admits of it. Men differ a 
good deal in capacity for acquiring languages, much more 
in capacity for teaching them; but all men not physically 
defective are endowed with speech, and speak the lan- 
guage they have heard from infancy. The rhythmizing 
impulse is no less universal than speech. 

Plato recognizes, putting it in his mythological way, 
the inborn character of the rhythmic sense, and the wide 
separation in this matter—even though it should prove 
to be a difference in degree only — between man and the 
other animals. “ Young creatures cannot be quiet in 
their bodies or their voices; they are always wanting to 
move and to use their voices, now leaping and skipping, 
as it were dancing with delight, and now making all 
sorts of cries. But while the other animals have no 
perception of order or disorder (Trav tra£ewr oddé arakav) 
in their motions — that is, of rhythm and melody — to us 
the Muses and Apollo their leader and Dionysos have 
given the perception, accompanied by pleasure, of 
rhythm and time.” (Laws 653 d-654; also 664 e.) 

Aristotle also (Poet. 4) counts rhythm and imitation as 
equally xara dvow; in the Aristotelian mpoSAjnpata 
(920 b; p. 98 v. Jan), in answer to the query why all 
delight in rhythm and song, it is remarked that they are 
kata vow, and that infants delight in them from the 
beginning. Some of the common rhythms of every-day 
life also were noted by Greek writers. We find Aris- 
tides Q. (I 18) citing the pulse-beats as an illustration 
of the rhythm perceived by the sense of touch. Longi- 
nos on Hephaistion (p. 84 W) refers to the sound of 
blacksmiths’ hammers, the walking or galloping of 
horses, the movement of fingers, the flight of birds. 

i 5 


68 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


ive sounds divide time to the ear also, though in such 
cases the source and permanent regulator of the rhythm 
is not the sound but the muscular movements. To these 
movements and sounds a song is often joined, — with 
the more primitive workmen nearly always. The words 
may be very simple, perhaps nothing more than inartic- 
ulate cries, often nearly or quite nonsense; often on the 
other hand it is an intelligible piece of verse, its subject 
more or less closely connected with the work. The tune 
also varies from the simplest, hardly to be called musical, 
to a folk-tune that a musician’s ear is pleased with. The 
song observes the same rhythm with the work, which 
regulates it, and at the same time is furthered by it. 
The additional expenditure of energy is overbalanced in 
effect on fatigue by the pleasure and stimulus. Biicher 
gives the words and music for a large number of these 
work-songs from all quarters of the earth. Especially 
noticeable is the rhythmical form, and the effect of such 
rhythmizing of work, when two or more work together. 
The rhythm of labor, often with song, is then not only 
regulative for the individual, but it becomes a means of 
codrdinating several workmen. That is particularly the 
case when the work demands codperation, and that in 
various ways. The simplest kind of such effect is seen 
when sailors hauling on a rope utter a rude call which 
is hardly song, but which marks the time for tension and 
relaxation of effort, and so enables all to apply their 
strength at the same instant. The stimulus of rivalry 
is often thus introduced, as in the case, once familiar in 
many lands, of a company of mowers or reapers. One 
leads off, the next tries to keep as near him as possible, 
in order not to seem inferior to the first and not to be 
caught by the third, who is pressing on behind. The 
leader too has his pride in being foremost, and will set 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 69 


a good pace, to the notable increase of results. Among 
the peasants such tasks were once generally accompanied 
by mowing and reaping songs. Boat songs are a well- 
known example of the same thing. Our old triad of the 
dance, poetry, and music wears many forms but is easily 
recognized. 

A few words on the question of the regulator in the 
triad. With his eye on the labor primarily, Biicher sees 
in that — correctly enough, so far as the united triad in 
his examples goes —the central thing to which the rest 
conforms. But we need to look more closely at the 
vocal element. Obviously tune in itself has no content 
of alien nature, that limits in any way the duration of 
the single note; an essential quality of purely musical 
sound is that it be prolongable at pleasure, within the 
capacity of the instrument. So far as the vehicle of the 
tune is a vocal utterance devoid of all non-musical 
meaning, inarticulate or mainly of the vowel character, 
there is nothing outside of the motions involved in the 
labor (and of course the capacity of the vocal organs, 
particularly the breath) to limit the duration of each 
note and regulate the rhythm. But when, in place of 
such vocal sound, true words are employed, another ele- 
ment comes in. The words did not originate in the 
work. They are brought to it from without, already 
possessing certain firmly inherent qualities derived from 
a multitude of other uses and associations. Among 
those inherent qualities is a more or less definite mean- 
ing, no more affected by its employment in a work-song 
than by its employment in any other context. Insepar- 
able from the meaning and equally inherent, in all 
languages, is a more or less definitely fixed relative 
duration of the syllable in comparison with adjacent 
syllables. Misunderstanding is here easy; let me make 


68 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


ive sounds divide time to the ear also, though in such 
cases the source and permanent regulator of the rhythm 
is not the sound but the muscular movements. To these 
movements and sounds a song is often joined, — with 
the more primitive workmen nearly always. The words 
may be very simple, perhaps nothing more than inartic- 
ulate cries, often nearly or quite nonsense; often on the 
other hand it is an intelligible piece of verse, its subject 
more or less closely connected with the work. The tune 
also varies from the simplest, hardly to be called musical, 
to a folk-tune that a musician’s ear is pleased with. The 
song observes the same rhythm with the work, which 
regulates it, and at the same time is furthered by it. 
The additional expenditure of energy is overbalanced in 
effect on fatigue by the pleasure and stimulus. Biicher 
gives the words and music for a large number of these 
work-songs from all quarters of the earth. Especially 
noticeable is the rhythmical form, and the effect of such 
rhythmizing of work, when two or more work together. 
The rhythm of labor, often with song, is then not only 
regulative for the individual, but it becomes a means of 
covrdinating several workmen. That is particularly the 
case when the work demands codperation, and that in 
various ways. The simplest kind of such effect is seen 
when sailors hauling on a rope utter a rude call which 
is hardly song, but which marks the time for tension and 
relaxation of effort, and so enables all to apply their 
strength at the same instant. The stimulus of rivalry 
is often thus introduced, as in the case, once familiar in 
many lands, of a company of mowers or reapers. One 
leads off, the next tries to keep as near him as possible, 
in order not to seem inferior to the first and not to be 
caught by the third, who is pressing on behind. The 
leader too has his pride in being foremost, and will set 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 69 


a good pace, to the notable increase of results. Among 
the peasants such tasks were once generally accompanied 
by mowing and reaping songs. Boat songs are a well- 
known example of the same thing. Our old triad of the 
dance, poetry, and music wears many forms but is easily 
recognized. 

A few words on the question of the regulator in the 
triad. With his eye on the labor primarily, Biicher sees 
in that — correctly enough, so far as the united triad in 
his examples goes—the central thing to which the rest 
conforms. But we need to look more closely at the 
vocal element. Obviously tune in itself has no content 
of alien nature, that limits in any way the duration of 
the single note; an essential quality of purely musical 
sound is that it be prolongable at pleasure, within the 
capacity of the instrument. So far as the vehicle of the 
tune is a vocal utterance devoid of all non-musical 
meaning, inarticulate or mainly of the vowel character, 
there is nothing outside of the motions involved in the 
labor (and of course the capacity of the vocal organs, 
particularly the breath) to limit the duration of each 
note and regulate the rhythm. But when, in place of 
such vocal sound, true words are employed, another ele- 
ment comes in. The words did not originate in the 
work. They are brought to it from without, already 
possessing certain firmly inherent qualities derived from 
a multitude of other uses and associations. Among 
those inherent qualities is a more or less definite mean- 
ing, no more affected by its employment in a work-song 
than by its employment in any other context. Insepar- 
able from the meaning and equally inherent, in all 
languages, is a more or less definitely fixed relative 
duration of the syllable in comparison with adjacent 
syllables. Misunderstanding is here easy; let me make 


70 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


it as difficult as possible. First by exclusion. Some 
words of a simple phonetic character, expressing emotion 
mainly, retain always the capacity of almost indefinite 
prolongation that belongs to purely musical or inarticulate 
vowel sound. Words like ah! whew! are not distorted 
in the least by a lengthened pronunciation in a sliding 
tune; such utterance merely increases, while it may more 
closely define, the emotional expression. In phonetic 
and semantic character such words approach purely 
musical sound, and naturally approach it in their treat- 
ment as regards duration. For the moment leave these 
words aside. With them are to be placed a few ex- 
clamations, not so simple phonetically, which originally 
had a more intellectual semantic content, but which in 
use have been largely stripped of that and now are 
merely expressions of emotion, like those in the former 
class. Such are many exclamations like gracious! 
mercy! or Herr Je/ Again, in loud calling to one at 
a distance, a simple phrase, or the last syllable of a name, 
may be likewise prolonged, in a manner that in other 
circumstances would be an inadmissible distortion. The 
need of making the sounds carry an unusual distance, 
or against unfavorable conditions, we accept as excusing 
what we all nevertheless feel to be abnormal though not 
uncommon. Once more, in modern singing we accept 
now as a matter of course, for the sake of the musical 
effect, extraordinary prolongation of vowels. We allow 
the composer to subordinate the word-form, and the 
meaning of the words in detail, absolutely to his musical 
idea. Handel’s oratorios exhibit this in extreme degree. 
But all will admit, I think, that this is a special case 
hardly bearing on our present problem. It is a con- 
sequence of the extraordinary modern development of 
music, quite foreign to antiquity, and held within pretty 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE T1 


strict limits in real folk-song, even that which arises now 
among a people largely influenced by the more freely 
developed art. This too, then, may be excluded. Put- 
ting these cases aside, the principle asserted is this. 
Even in a language whose syllables are so elastic as in 
English, there are limits of relative length, narrower 
than those fixed by the organs of speech or the duration 
of the breath, to exceed which in speech or in artless 
song — that is, in song not composed by one well schooled 
in the specifically modern developments of music — 
appears unnatural, a distortion of the word, and is there- 
fore not admitted, except for a distinctively comic 
purpose. The fact seems indisputable when we follow 
in thought the rise of one of these work-songs. When 
words with a definite meaning are made to accompany 
the worker’s motion, in order to fit the rhythm in a way 
to satisfy the worker they must have been selected with 
some reference to those “natural” — that is, previously 
and elsewhere determined, however elastic—limits of 
relative duration in the syllables. In languages employ- 
ing a marked stress as word-accent, that element too 
must be regarded; a syllable that in the same context 
- would receive when spoken a markedly stronger stress 
is not in satisfactory harmony with the work-rhythm, if 
so placed as to accompany the weakest muscular tension. 
I trust the point is clear. While it is true that the 
rhythm of the work-song is primarily determined by 
the work-rhythm, the words also possess, before being 
selected and placed in the song, inherent qualities of 
syllabic length, perhaps stress too, such that the com- 
pleted specific combination of words naturally carries 
the same rhythm independently, when dissociated from 
the work, and even to those who have forgotten or never 
knew the work-rhythm in itself, provided they know 


72 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


the language. The work-rhythm leads the worker to 
create a parallel rhythm in another medium; the second 
pu0@uSepevov is of such character that its rhythm is per- 
fectly preserved by it independently. Of course this is 
true in a degree slightly varying with individual cases. 
As the verbal rhythm is in the worker’s mind secondary, 
it is not always perfected in every detail; but as the 
words become more important to him, the inclination is 
stronger to make their rhythm more independently clear. 
With a view to the farther course of this chapter it 
seemed necessary to put this relation between the words 
and the rhythm beyond question. 

The following summary I quote in substance from 
Biicher (p. 357 ff.). ‘In that center of convergence we 
see work still undistinguished from art and from play. 
There is a single human activity, a solution of work, play, 
and art. In this unity of physical and mental action 
we perceive the germs of development along all those 
lines. ... The arts of motion (music, dance, poetry) 
come into being in the performance of work; the arts of 
rest, of form, are embodied, if only in the form of orna- 
ment, in the results of work. This is all simply the 
instinctive action of life in common, average humanity, 
—in savages, in peasants, in working people. The 
bond that holds together these elements, which we have 
come to think so unlike, is rhythm, whose source is in 
the very essence of the human organism.” 

Allied to the work-song and a little nearer to our 
goal are verses that children recite or sing in con- 
nection with play. Great numbers of these are current, 
probably in all languages in which children enjoy games 
together. They are handed on almost purely by oral 
tradition, many of them from one child-generation 
directly to another, or rather from slightly older to 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 73 


slightly younger children joining in the same game; 
parents who have forgotten them discover suddenly that 
their children are reciting them. Others are used by 
parents and nurses to amuse infants. Some are very 
old, existing in many versions. I will cite only a few, 
quoting, if at all, in the exact form that was familiar to 
my childhood. 

Counting out rimes? are generally doggerel. One 
child “ counts out” by repeating the words, pointing in 
succession to all around the circle, to a new individual 
with every heavily stressed syllable. The person pointed 
at on the last syllable of the stanza, always a stressed 
syllable, is “out”; the operation is repeated with the 
rest, until only one is left, who is “it.” The rhythmic 
pointing is a sort of beating time; the stressed syllables 
recur at equal intervals; between them may be one or 
two syllables or none. No attentive onlooker can fail to 
distinguish, whether he can describe it correctly or not, 
the very exact rhythm. 

The following is a verse that may sound like non- 
sense, but which still had a very distinct and agreeable 
meaning to many New England country families thirty- 
five years ago. 

Bean porridge hot, 

Bean porridge cold, 
Bean porridge in the pot 
Nine days old. 


This was accompanied by a play, which must be de- 
scribed in full. Two persons are seated face to face and 
close together; while the words are repeated by both or 
by one alone, both make the following movements. 


1 See H. C. Bolton, Counting out Rhymes of Children, London, 
1888, 


74. CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Bean — each person slaps both palms on his own knees ; 

por — both palms together ; 

hot —both palms against partner’s, right against left, 
left against right ; 

Bean porridge cold — same play repeated ; 

Bean porridge —as before ; 

im — right palm against partner’s right ; 

pot — both palms together; 

Nine — left palm against partner’s left; 

days — both palms together ; 

old — both palms against partner’s as on hot. 


[Then repeat ad libitum. ] 


The louder the slapping noises the greater the fun; 
generally the speed would be gradually increased until 
one or the other made a mistake. The rhythm of the 
play is sharply marked, and the words being well known 
were often not recited aloud, merely running along in 
the mind of the players to help them keep the order of 
the changes. And on the other hand the rhythm of the 
words without the play is just as distinct and unmistak- 
able. They were often recited alone; there could be 
no better illustration of perfectly independent but par- 
allel rhythms in two different mediums. Neither regu- 
lates the other. Which was the original one, which 
secondary? No one can say; but as the words have an 
independent meaning and the play has not, I should 
guess the word-jingle to have been first invented. And 
the rhythm is plainly this, expressed in metrical symbols: 


Sein Ngee A Mas | 
WADE Ege ey A i 
a RP PA ee 

1 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 75 


The symbols are intended to indicate merely the time- 
intervals and their arrangement. Where two are writ- 
ten the upper indicates the intervals marked off by the 
syllables, the lower those marked off by the play. So 
written the word-rhythm appears a trifle more varied 
than the play-rhythm; but that is merely because the 
symbols fail to note some of the changes of the play. 
In fact the four hands in alternating pairs, now against 
each other and now against the knees, make a rhythm 
that is rather complex. The hand-rhythm alone is 
indeed threefold, according as it is perceived by the mus- 
cular sense, the ear, or the eye. In like manner that of 
the words is twofold; no symbols have been invented 
that really represent more than the larger divisions. 
In the words each distinct time is marked by the begin- 
ning of a syllable, or by the transition from one syllable 
to the next; more precisely by the beginning of the 
vowel of each syllable. The word-accent is prominent 
as a strong stress on the vowels of the more important 
intervals; stress on the first syllable of porridge and on 
days is slightly subordinated; that of im, which is not 
in itself a strong word, is treated in the rhythm as equal 
to those that would ordinarily be considered heavier. 
Whether the words hot, cold,and old really fill the whole 
interval (except for a minute fraction required for the 
break in sense), or whether they occupy but half, the 
remainder being left vacant, one may feel uncertain. 
At first thought one would say the latter; but closer 
observation, and examination of gramophone records, 
incline me decidedly to the former explanation. Rhyth- 
mically it makes no difference which; in either case the 
whole interval from the beginning of the syllable to 
the beginning of the next is the same; and that is what 
the rhythmic sense takes account of. In the play each 


76 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


distinct time is marked at its beginning by audible contact 
of the palm with the knee or another hand; the rest of 
the interval is to the ear vacant, to the eye and mus- 
cular sense it is filled out by the bodily movements. 
The close of the last interval is unmarked; the uncon- 
scious arithmetician in us merely assumes it. Still far- 
ther, the intervals fall into a complex grouping. In the 
words each line is a group, the first and second together 
are a larger group, as are the third and fourth; rimes 
are one sign of this, but the variations of times, apart 
from the rime, would alone suffice to group the whole in 
the same manner. The same grouping appears in the 
play as well. So far in this description technical terms 
have been avoided, but it is quite clear that the rhythm is 
what the Greeks called dactylic, in what musicians now 
call common (or perhaps ?) time. Each foot or meas- 
ure is a dactyl or its equivalent; the single intervals are 
of three magnitudes, standing to each other in the ratio 
of 1, 2, 4; in the terminology of Aristoxenos the ypévor 
modtkol are the ypdvos mpatos, ypdvos Sicnmos, xpdvos 
retpaonuos. The entire zeplodos consists of four «oda, 
grouped by twos, each «@dov being a dipody. 

There is a little three-part round that is often taught 
to companies of older children. It has doubtless heen 
printed, but I do not remember to have seen it; it lends 
itself easily to the Greek method of musical notation, as 
the rhythm of the melody is that of the words, only 
more exactly observed. Placing above the several syl- 
lables the letters that indicate the notes of our scale 
(the middle octave in capitals, A-G, the next above in» 
small letters), it runs, in the key of CO, as on the opposite 
page. 

In reading the words quietly, without wAdopa, there 
are places where the rhythm may be doubtful. Some 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 77 


E D Cc 
I. Three blind mice; [thrice] 
Gee 
II. See how they run; [thrice] 
G Oe Ras @ c G G 
III. They all ran after the farmer’s wife; 


Ge eae c b eR OG & G 

She cut off their tails with a carving knife; 
G OO. Nee ae SR G G G 
You never did see such a sight in your life. 


[Repeat ad libitum. ] 


phrases might be spoken in quite another rhythm, were 
they not associated with corresponding phrases that 
admit of no doubt. But in the whole combination, if one 
simply takes the youthful attitude towards the lines, pro- 
nouncing them with vivacity, so as to rouse the children’s 
imagination and make them see the scene described, 
—that is, if one pronounces them with appropriate 
midoua—then the rhythm is not doubtful at all. If 
one carries the vivacity a trifle farther, and gives to his 
utterance the musical quality of the singing voice, the 
rhythm becomes unequivocally that in which the lines 
are always sung. 


























































































































. I. 
fa’ 
7-2: T T 
Vat >) @° ] a | ah a mM Tei | 
(71\_O 4: 1 T est = ] ce | ea 
om Cae t 1 | r¢ or | éo AEE TOR 
o or” so va wr Se 
AN 
a ee | » oie ~ ree J we | AX 
cf ae ema eas ak Semone es SS awa a SS 
D—9-—s—s toh és te ait 
- - =a + ih 
sf III. 
PEP s Uh AX » it | “ees 
SEIT RT, WEA 9 Ea A L tL 
r) ~@__¢_y¢ r) in Sa H @ 2 8 6 6 
f | be { I FORE |i 
ANS [ i i ba ¢€ iad 1D BREA DSI 
es » r ee, 
ec, i » AX rs 
A] A —* pW BIN a ae | 
PE Le Te r} r] ri | FPR A Gey Dawe ee TZ 
; at = tal >| ce T ¢ g Al Wa FR ROE | 
I TM © Pi i vi | SP AI AN CTRL 
= r r La 
eg 





78 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Or in metrical symbols : 


TiS a May WR fk ah (ci ae 

Waa eli Gomte NTRS FOR Wik ge! Yc 
$F Pe Oh Ns rT i a eee 

wea dul eee 


Cre aii ws Tie eo ee ce 


As the three parts are heard together, no confusion as 
to the relative lengths of syllables is possible. The 
movement is trochaic. The first mepéodos consists of 
three trisemes, making an incomplete dimeter, thrice 
repeated; the second is similar, but the second foot is 
now a plain trochee; the third consists of three dimeters, 
with one trochee resolved into a tribrach in the first 
K@Aov, two in the second, three in the third. No one 
will doubt that this correctly represents the time inter- 
vals of the music; any one who duly considers the terms 
in which I have stated the relation between the spoken 
rhythm and that of the music, and the true character 
and function of what the ancients called wAdcpua, must 
allow that the words carry the same rhythm inde- 
pendently. 

As was remarked in the preceding chapter, a great 
number of lyric poems have been set to music on the 
same principle. The composer is absolutely free to sub- 
stitute his own for the poet’s rhythm, and commonly 
does so; but the older relation is so natural that it is 
even now often preferred throughout a song, and still 
oftener with only a few slight deviations. I will cite 
two examples to put beside the Heidenrislein, for still 
fuller illustration of what seems to me an important side 
of our subject. 

The first is an old setting of Ben Jonson’s To 
Celia; the metrical symbols alone will suffice, conform- 
ing strictly to the music, which may be found in the 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE te 


Collection Litolff, No. 839, English National Album, 
p- 16. Where the tune, however, passes from one pitch 
to another on the same syllable, my scheme unites the 
two eighth notes into one; the relation is exactly the 
same as in Greek music. 


Drink to me only with thine eyes, 
NO agin Osten Aye ak YC ena Le 
And I will pledge with mine ; 
NT oe ee, 0 Cee teat AN 


Or leave a kiss but in the cup, 
SP eae ON mR Bae a Ld 


And Ill not look for wine. 
Ronn) Capac eR Ar ae Bag Ae 
The thirst that from the soul doth rise 
Oh 5 Pe vu Sd PR cee Ra Ly 
Doth ask a drink divine; 
Soro Pek Ga Ve ea alee AE 
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, 


“Vie Gs USES ee i | psc Se 


I would not change for thine. 


PG) Seeeen So ea a Pid (| VORA 


The musical time is §. Two things are noticeable. 
First, the syllables “Or leave a” and “But might I” 
would be read more naturally as v! —v; but since the 
corresponding syllables of the opening line naturally take 
the musical form v vv, the composer has chosen to 
treat that as the model, and has followed it at the begin- 
ning of each couplet, except on the words “The thirst 
that.” Secondly, it is a part of the 7Adopa, here carried 
a step farther than it was by the ancient musician, that 
all irrational syllables are in music made unequivocally 
short in the writing. On the other hand a solo singer. 
rendering these lines with expression, giving the words 


80 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


their due weight, would certainly depart from the exact 
ratios of the written notes, and would restore the irra- 
tionality. When irrational syllables are rather numerous 
in the verse, a composer who otherwise follows exactly 
the verse-rhythm is likely to shift the whole from an 
iambic or % time to ? or ¢ time. 

A modern song treated in like manner by the com- 
poser is Tennyson’s Sweet and Low, set to music by 
J. Barnby. As before, I give of the music the rhythm 
only, since that alone concerns us; both words and music 
are well known wherever English is spoken. The time 
is again §. 


Sweet and low, sweet and low, Soa ¥ Sie We iy) ULE Aree he 
Wind of the western sea, vuve—vltw A 
Low, low, breathe and blow, CORN Shy Mite (eae CR, are 
Wind of the western sea. vuve—vituw Al 
Over the rolling waters go, REN aS as VON hed 
Come from the dying moon ene bowtie 
and blow, 
Blow him again to me; vyv—-vitel 
While my little one, whilemy —vyuvu l_vvvul 
pretty one : 
Sleeps. tl 


Two details call for farther notice. The last word, 
standing as it does for a whole line, is by the musi- 
cian made equal to a line by prolongation through 
two measures: in the air and bass the whole is on one 
pitch, while the harmony is varied by simple changes 
in alto and tenor. This is an extreme instance of tov 
to fill the time which a reader would simply leave va- 
cant, waiting silently for the proper interval to elapse 
before beginning the next stanza. Also to the words 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 81 


“little” and “pretty,” the composer gave a dotted 
eighth and a sixteenth note instead of two eighths, 
These are the only departures from the rhythm given 
in my scheme. 

The significance of these and like songs for our pur- 
pose lies in this. The musician felt and expressed the v~- 
same rhythm as the poet. But the only notation of the 
poet was the words. They suffice in practice for one 
who knows the language, and they were enough to give 
the rhythm to the musician. But they do not require 
either poet or reader to analyze and state, even to him- 
self, precisely what the rhythm is. But modern musical 
notation, vastly superior in this to the ancient, not 
merely permits but requires the relative length as well 
as pitch of every note to be written, and that too with 
a precision which often goes beyond that of the actual 
rendering, so that various signs, as a hold or accelerando 
or tempo rubato, are required to give warning that the 
rigid ratios of the notes are to be varied somehow. Owing 
therefore to this characteristic of his notation, the com- 
poser of necessity and habitually analyzes the rhythm 
and gives a full and exact account of it to himself and 
to his reader. Hence in such songs as these we have 
our commonest poetic rhythms described for us by men 
of special training in just that direction. 

Nursery rimes that are not sung, nor accompanied by 
a rhythmical play, but are recited with delight by chil- 
dren, are another class of verbal combinations in which 
the rhythm is both independent and unmistakable. 
Children like to repeat them with complete mAdcya, 
which in this case we call sing-song, of a kind that in 
them is often charming. It is chiefly the rhythm that 
makes the jingle pleasing; they therefore like to make 


the rhythm perfect with little reference to sense. When 
6 


82 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


real poetry is taken in hand, the childish tendency to 
recite it in a similar way has to be corrected, until what 
adults consider the proper balance between rhythm and 
sense is attained. But in the latter case also the essential _ 
character of the rhythm is the same. Without wracpa 
the rhythm is not mathematically exact; an educated 
adult does not wish it too exact. To recur to our old 
comparison, in a fine oriental rug the hand-made, slightly 
irregular ornament and intentionally varied symmetry 
are more interesting and more beautiful than the dead 
mechanical precision of a machine-woven pattern; but 
a geometrically perfect pattern may be said to lie at the 
basis of the Persian weaver’s design. So in verse there 
is an exact pattern underneath, to which the reader 
approximates, now more closely, now less, as the phonetic 
character of the words or the requirements of sense and 
expression permit ordemand. The great mass of English ~ 
poetry moves in one or another variety of triple rhythm; 
but many examples, more especially but not exclusively © 
comic, are in double or quadruple time. 

Some have denied this and maintained the impossibility 
of it. One may even discern in some quarters the notion 
that a Hellenist, by reason of his acquaintance with 
ancient metric, is somehow disqualified for giving an 
opinion on the metric of modern languages. There is a~ 
historical reason for such prejudice, in that attempts 
have occasionally been made to apply rules of classical 
prosody to English, and men imperfectly acquainted 
with both Greek and English meters have transferred to 
the latter crude ideas of the former, with unedifying 
results. Hence an attempt to state in terms of time- 
ratios the rhythms of English verse rouses in some people 
a feeling of suspicion that sadly disturbs the judicial 
balance. In fact there is in the study of these rhythms 





RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 83 


an almost unworked field for one who has the requisite 
preliminary training and is able to devote his attention 
without prejudice to the actual living facts of speech. 
What is needful is that one should calmly ask and con- 
sistently apply the answers to two questions — the same 
which Aristoxenos asked and answered in regard to 
Greek — namely: What is rhythm? and What rhythms 
are produced when young children who have no theory, 
or adults possessed of a cultivated taste, speak or read 
English naturally ?} 

Presupposing that mental attitude,—without which 
farther agreement in this direction is hopeless, —if any 
reader is inclined to distrust my determinations of 
rhythm in specific cases, I can only urge upon him 
two things. First, let him carefully observe the work- 
ing of the tendency toward wAdowa,~not merely in 
himself and not merely in my examples, but in every- 


1 The late Sidney Lanier, in The Science of English Verse (N. Y.,~ 


Scribners, 1880), brought to this subject the endowment of a genuine 
poet and of a competent musician — a rare combination. The essen- 
tial truth of the matter he discerned and stated clearly. But he lacked 
the conventional philological and scientific training, and was both 
poet and musician; hence his presentation of the subject was not in 
the conventional manner of philologians, and repelled them, — espe- 
cially those who were not musical and therefore could not understand 
him. Some important details also Lanier did not see quite correctly. 
Therefore the beginning made by him has not been followed up as it 
deserved. My paper, Quantity in English Verse (Trans. Am. Phil. Assoc., 
1885, Vol. XVI, pp. 78-103), aimed to define more precisely and to 
extend Lanier’s principles; it might be now much improved. Some 
scholars of repute, and even of well-deserved fame, were unable, in 
criticising us, to free their minds from a tangle of confused notions 
about word-accent and “quantity,” and ask themselves the two funda- 
mental questions above mentioned. But a younger generation is now 
approaching the subject; the growing appreciation of Lanier’s poetry 
and the publication of his letters have led to better recognition of his 
critical insight, — of his power to draw 


“From Art’s unconscious act Art’s conscious laws.” 


L~ 


84 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


day life about him, whenever one makes an effort to 
convey the emotion or the full meaning of any form of 
words. Secondly, let the objector ask himself without 
prepossession whether his capacity for detecting and 
analyzing rhythm, in distinction from the power of orig- 
inating or imitating it, has been in any way systemat- 
ically developed. For example, has he learned to read 
music readily, or has he been trained or trained himself 
in genuinely quantitative reading of ancient verse, dac- 
tyls and anapests in quadruple time? [If not, and if 
he has not also practised a good deal the analysis of 
rhythm in language, then he will do well to admit that 
his first impression on such questions may not be trust- 
worthy. In regard to tune, a particular succession of 
pitch-intervals in the musical scale, we put little confi- 
dence in the judgment of one whose ear for pitch has 
not been well disciplined. If one cannot sing the scales 
correctly, or cannot tune a violin or tell with certainty 
whether a piano is in tune or not, —and some very good 
people and admirable scholars cannot, — then he rightly 
distrusts his opinion on such matters. The problem is 
at bottom the same in the two cases; in both it isa 
question of discriminating fairly simple ratios. In both 
cases the thing can be done by mechanical means, so 
that a person without ear, that is a person who has no 
native or acquired faculty in that line, must be con- 
vinced. But such mechanical determination of pre- 
viously unknown pitch-ratios in music or time-ratios in 
language is difficult, requiring complicated and: sensitive 
apparatus. In the case of rhythm the attempts hitherto 
made, so far as they are known to me, have produced 
no fully trustworthy results, owing to the imperfection 
of instruments or methods. More experimenters are 
now attacking the problem; better success will certainly 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 85 


follow and is much to be desired! But meantime, for 
the trained ear to determine the ratios between success- 
ive time-intervals in a rhythmical series is a task of the 
same kind as for the trained ear to determine the relative 
place, with reference to the musical scale, of successive 
tones in a melody. Instruments of precision are as 
necessary in the one case as in the other, and no more 
necessary. But the ear, in both cases alike, must have 
been adequately trained; else its judgment is without 
value. As regards music there are many in the commu- 
nity who have had the requisite training and practice, 
both for the pitch of the notes and for their rhythm; 
an orchestra plays together, musicians agree in their 
statements on such points, and we believe them. But 
language rhythms have received comparatively little 
attention from this point of view; that sufficiently 
accounts for the lack of agreement and the sense of help- 


1 My colleague, Professor Scripture, has for several years been 
conducting in the Yale Psychological Laboratory a series of experi- 
ments in this direction; the first instalment of his results appeared in 
the Studies from the Yale Psych. Lab. VII (1899). With his high sense\ 
of the delicacy and accuracy required in the apparatus, and his un- 
usual skill in devising means of meeting those requirements, the 
mechanical problems have demanded much time for their solution. 
It quickly became apparent also that much preliminary work on the 
elementary sounds of language was necessary. Hence on the rhyth- 
mical problem hardly more than a beginning has been made. This 
beginning, however, has brought out some important facts, which will 
be cited later; and his researches promise to be of great value. 

Not as a criticism of Professor Scripture, but for its general bear- 
ing, the following should be added. It sometimes detracts from the 
utility of such experiments that those who conduct them are apt to 
cherish too great confidence in the exclusive sufficiency of mechanical 
analysis, and cannot easily admit the inaccuracy of their own machines. 
That is a fault, when it exists, no less serious than the converse, 
undervaluation of such methods of study. The latter was once unduly 
prevalent and strong; the tendency now is to trust too exclusively to 
mechanism. 





86 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


lessness before them that are so common. Even a 
musician whose rhythmic sense is unhesitatingly accu- 
rate in music may be obliged to accustom himself to the 
different character of the pu@ucfcuevov in speech before 
his ear becomes equally sure on rhythms that are really 
simpler. And then in rhythm, as in tone or harmony, it 
is one thing -to reproduce a combination already noted 
down, or to make a new combination of your own, and 
another and a far less easy thing to distinguish accurately 
a combination that is merely heard. But a musician who 
is interested in the subject can with practice acquire 
a high degree of accuracy in analyzing rhythms 
of language. It is no claim of special proficiency 
on my part to say that in renewing such attempts 
frequently during nearly twenty years a marked gain 
in facility has been perceptible, though there are plenty 
of constant combinations, unhesitatingly made in ordi- 
nary speech and often heard, that still elude analysis. 
My experience is cited solely to illustrate the utility and 
the necessity of practice. 

It is not my intention to go farther into details on the 
subject of English verse. From this unavoidable digres- 
sion I return to the question which the preceding pages 
of the chapter lead up to: How, in general terms, does 
the rhythmizing impulse deal with English speech? 
Spoken words in connected discourse are a series of 
bodily movements producing sounds. If there were 
not a strong unconscious tendency to rhythmize those 
movements and the corresponding sounds, then language 
would be the sole exception in the whole life of man to 
the otherwise universal rule; we should have in lan- 
guage many series of sounds indissolubly united with 
voluntary but almost automatic bodily movements, 
repeated many times daily, eminently rhythmizable, yet 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 87 


not rhythmized. Of course the exception does not 
exist. The rhythms produced are of essentially the same 
character as those of labor, or of music. How are they 
produced in the medium of the English language ? 

On an earlier page emphasis was laid on the fact that 
certain limits, between which the duration of syllables 
may vary, are fixed. Here it must be emphasized that 
every syllable and every vowel and every consonant, 
within those limits, is more or less variable. The elas- 
ticity of English consonants was noticed at length by 
Sweet in his article On Danish Pronunciation (Trans. 
Phil. Soc., 1878-4, p. 110), and was dwelt on in my paper 
above referred to (p. 98f.) ; gramophone records prove it 
beyond all possibility of doubt, and for mutes no less 
than for fricatives and liquids. (See Scripture, op. cit., 
passim.) This furnishes for the free working of the 
rhythmizing impulse a range no less wide than is fur- 
nished in the laborer’s task by the natural play of limb 
and muscle; which is also confined within strict limits, 
for the human leg can step and the human arm reach 
and the individual muscle contract only so far. In not 
a few syllables the elasticity resides far more in the con- 
sonantal part than in the vowel; and the ear is more 
offended by much prolongation of accented “short” 
vowels like those of pin, sunny, many, valley, than by 
the prolongation of adjacent consonants or unaccented 
vowels, or by the shortening of “long” vowels or diph- 
thongs. 

Another principle is of great importance. The small- 
est time-intervals recognized as constituents of rhythm 
are those marked by the syllables, not those of the sepa- 
rate vowels and consonants within the syllable. The 
times of the elements united into a syllable are not sepa-_. 
rately noted with reference to any ratios between them- 


v4 


88 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


selves. The times of the syllables are so noted, with 


reference to ratios between them, and as forming little _ 
groups, feet, which form larger groups. The times of” 


the successive sounds within a syllable flow on and run 
into each other without break; but something happens 
in passing from one syllable to the next that causes us to 
feel that there a break was made. That is what chiefly 
gives language its articulate or jointed character. Pre- 
cisely where in the flow of sounds that articulating pro- 
cess, that audible break, occurs —if we come down to 
the minutest measurement — it is difficult to say; but 
it occurs somewhere; all recognize that speech is jointed 
and that syllables are real entities. It occurs some- 
where between the vowels. Rhythmically, as it appears 
to me, it is the beginning of the vowel that begins the 
new rhythmic time. That is the place where the sound 
becomes louder again, where the stronger vibrations 
originating in the vocal chords reach the ear with less 


“a 


hindrance and with heavier impact. This would account’ — 


for the fact that the consonants, however many, before 
the first vowel of a line or «@dov have no rhythmical 
effect, in Greek, Latin, or English. Anyhow, the sylla- 
bic times are the smallest constituents of rhythm recog- 
nized as distinct by the rhythmic sense. If the curve 
of a transcribed gramophone record be so enlarged that 
three syllables making a dactyl ocupy 300 mm., it may 
not be possible to point out within a millimeter where 
the transition from one syllable to the next occurs; but 
it will be possible to locate it within perhaps 10 mm., 
and the transition is a real thing, the syllable a dis- 
tinct rhythmic time. 

Given, now, any series of words, selected wholly with- 
out reference to rhythm, simply to convey an idea in 
ordinary talk, any one who speaks naturally the entire 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 89 


series yields unconsciously to an impulse to arrange the 
syllabic times in some regular or approximately regular 
way. To that end he deals pretty freely with the times 
of individual vowels and consonants, extending some, 
contracting others. Conspicuous points which he takes 
account of first of all, and is impelled to make most 
distinctly regular in their arrangement, are the more 
prominent among the accented vowels. But there is 
considerable freedom even here; some vowels that are 
certainly accented and felt as accented are yet made 
subordinate to others that occur in a more convenient 
location for the immediate purpose, and some vowels of 
slight prominence, or not accented at all in other com- 
binations, if they chance to stand more conveniently, 
may be treated in the rhythm as the equals of strongly 
accented ones. Yet the sense of separate individuality 
in the syllables includes a recognition of limits to the 
freedom of treatment, to exceed which would be distor- 
tion. Therefore in ordinary conversation the rhythmiz- 
ing impulse is only partially successful; it is held in 
check by the previously determined character of the pu0 w- 
Eduevov, by the sense that if one prolongs or shortens 
syllables too much they will sound queer. That would 
offend more than the resulting rhythm would please. 
Hence there are frequent interruptions of the even flow. 
A few successive syllables take easily a distinct rhythm; 
then comes an obstruction, a little shift, then a few more 
syllables more easily arranged, and so on with infinite 
variety. The impulse is constant so long as the words 
come without hesitation; obstructions are frequent, 
changes in the character of the rhythm from one phrase 
to another are numerous, the result so complex that 
detailed analysis is impossible without instruments, and 
those more perfect than have yet been employed. Such 


90 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


is the process in speech when the words are not origin- 
ally selected or arranged at all with reference to rhythm. 

But every one who speaks or writes carefully for the 
public, if while making his sentences he is conscious of 
their sound (some are not so conscious), does select 
words and arrange them more or less, to make them 
easier for the rhythmizing impulse to deal with to its 
satisfaction, so that they may more easily assume a 
somewhat closer approach to regularity. Somewhat 
closer, I say; for we do not like a too perfect rhythm 
in professed prose. Aristotle has put this as well as 
any one. 70 dé oyfjma Ths AdEews Sef ponte uperpov eivat 
pnte appvOuov: To mév yap amavov (mremrdcOa yap 
Soxel) Kal dua Kal éEiotnow* mpocdyev yap ro TO 
oumolm, more madi Hee... . 510 puOuov Sei éyew ov 
Adyov, wéetpov Sé mH Toinua yap écrar. puOuov Se pH 
axptBas* todto 5é éorat édv péypt tov 7. (Rhet. III, 8, 
1-8.) ‘The words should be neither metrical or un- 
rhythmical. The former awakens mistrust, for it seems — 
artificial ; at the same time it puts one out, for it makes 
one look for the like and ask when it will recur. Hence 
prose should contain rhythm, but not meter, else it will 
be verse. And rhythm not too exactly; as when it is 
carried only to a certain extent.” That is, no one pat- 
tern may be carried far or repeated in close proximity 
without drawing attention to itself away from what is 
more important, and that would not be agreeable. If 
the thought rises for a moment, becoming nobly emo- 
tional, elevated, what we call poetical, our sense of pro- 
priety admits a closer approach to perfect rhythm. But 
such closer approach when the thought is not distinctly 
above the ordinary prose level is felt to be affectation 
and pretence, form without the substance. But whether 
the composition be easy or not for the rhythmizing 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 91 


impulse to deal with, and whether the resulting rhythm 
be appropriate and pleasing or not, the process in read- 
ing the composition aloud is the same as before, — 
an entirely unconscious one in most people, more or 
less consciously attended to by the actor or practised 
speaker. 

In the expression of the best thought and the higher 
ranges of emotion, in the “most perfect speech of man,” 
we think a more perfect rhythmical form appropriate. 
We expect the poet to wed his thought to melodious 
verse, — so to select and arrange words that the voice 
will easily effect a satisfying arrangement of the times. 
The process in speaking them is still the same; but the 
material supplied is more readily arranged, and the 
result is more regular, —is not only puOuds, but pérpor, 
in Aristotle’s sense. And in verse itself there are all 
grades of success in rhythm; even in a single author 
like Robert Browning we find some poems or lines of 
exquisitely perfect form beside others in which the 
author’s intention is not clear, to the vexation of the 
reader. 

Thus three classes of cases may be distinguished, of 
three grades of adaptability to rhythmization in delivery. 
But the classes are evidently not separated by a sharp 
dividing line; such classification is nothing but a con- 
venience in presentation. In reality there is no break 
in continuity in the series of cases, and no essential 
change in the mode of vocal action, in passing from the 
most unstudied or least rhythmical utterances of every- 
day life to the most perfect examples of poetic rhythm. 
To repeat once more the fundamental principle which 
we have reached, and from which this whole investiga- 
tion sets out: All speech, like all other bodily activity 
in which similar movements are repeated at brief inter- 


92 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


/ vals of time, tends towards rhythm, and approaches 

“ yegularity of rhythm as closely as the phonetic and 
semantic character of the words, all things considered, 
permits. For simplicity our attention in this chapter 
has been confined to English; but the principle is prob- 
ably universal. It certainly applies to the few languages 
which I know enough about to judge. In literature 
poetry is generally earlier than prose, in great part be- 
cause verse as an artistic rhythmical form is simpler 
and more intelligible than prose. It therefore pleases 
earlier, — pleases composer and listener alike. Verse 
isolates a single pattern of rhythm from the tangle of 
rhythms made in ordinary speech. What is said in that 
more easily followed form — always provided a content 
of thought and feeling that seems worthy of it — pleases 
primitive man, as simple rhythms of all kinds please 
children. One needs considerable literary training to“ 
see an artistic form in prose, which is, as rhythm, so 
much more complex. This is like what has happened 5 
in music. Simple melody pleased first; perfect con-” 
cords pleased earlier than the less perfect; discords are 
not received into music till quite late; numerous acci- 
dentals and free modulations, mingling different keys, 
require for their appreciation a high degree of culture 
of the musical sense, such as only a fraction of the 
people even in the most musical nations have attained. 
In the study of music, and likewise in the study of 
rhythm in language, one naturally begins with the 
simpler. 

Another fundamental principle, implied in what pre- 
cedes but requiring distinct statement, is this. In study- 
ing specific language rhythms —I do not say in teaching 
the beginner, but in trying to ascertain their real char- 
acter — we must start from the larger group of words 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 93 


rather than from the syllable or the foot. This is merely 
applying in metric the principle which has been reached. 
by the student of phonetics generally and by students 
of syntax. In all alike the sentence, the Satz, the 
larger grouping, may be analyzed into smaller groups, 
—into words bearing certain syntactical relations to each 
other, or into feet, syllables, individual sounds, which 
last are also not simple. But alike in all three fields 
every smaller unit reached by analysis is much influenced 
by its surroundings; other surroundings may transform 
it; these must therefore in each instance be all duly 
taken into account. The moment you isolate the smaller 
unit and consider it without reference to collocation, 
you are treating a variable as a constant. That is a 
frequent source of error in a good many fields. A 
problem solved by the aid of that assumption is not 
solved, in metric any more than in mathematics. To 
understand the nature of the smaller metrical units we 
must watch them im Werden, observing first, as we have 
been doing, how the voice deals with the larger group 
of words, and secondly, what the composer does who 
combines words with the aim of producing a particular 
rhythmical pattern. Let us look at the matter a mo- 
ment from the latter side. 

Negatively, we must not conceive that process as one 
of addition, in which the lower units, whatever elements 
the larger group when analyzed is found to contain, are 
taken like so many bricks or stones already shaped, and 
built up into the larger structure. The process is rather 
to be compared — except in rapidity, where the difference 
is immense — to the growth of a plant, in which the 
vital force pervades every part, and all the parts, larger 
and smaller, adjust themselves to each other in a living 
and organic relation. This is true of music and the 


94 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


dance no less than of poetry; but we will look only at 
the last. All poets who have given us any account of “ 
their experience in the act of poetic creation agree on 
this point. Not the single sound, nor the syllable, norv 
even the word is to their feeling the unit; but the phrase, 
the line, the whole poem. Illustrations might be multi- 
plied; two will suffice. Lowell in his letters describes 
the writing of his masterpiece, the Commemoration Ode. — 
“ The ode itself,” he wrote to Mr. Gilder, “was an im- 
provisation. Two days before the Commemoration I 
had told my friend Child that it was impossible —that I 
was dull as a door-mat. But the next day something 
gave me a jog and the whole thing came out of me with 
a rush. I sat up all night writing it out clear, and I 
took it on the morning of the day to Child.” Again 
to T. W. Higginson, “I was longer getting the new 
(eleventh) strophe to my mind than in writing the rest 
of the poem. In that I hardly changed a word, and it 
was so undeliberate that I did not find out till after it: 
was printed that some of the verses lacked corresponding 
rhymes.” The poem as delivered was over four hundred 
lines long, in complicated and changing meter. O. W. vy 
Holmes also in his Autocrat at the Breakfast Table com- 
pares the conceiving a lyric poem to being hit by a bullet 
in the forehead. Many people who lay no claim to 
genius have had experiences resembling these nearly 
enough to understand such accounts perfectly. Ribot 
in a recent article on The Nature of the Creative Im- 
agination (International Monthly, July, 1900) devotes 
some pages to the psychology of such inspiration, em-. 
phasizing the suddenness and also the impersonal, uncon- 
scious, subterraneous aspect of it in its ordinary form. 
Isolation of the single syllable or word, and conscious 
calculation of its relative space in the pattern is wholly 


ros 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 95 


absent. Single effects may indeed be altered by calcu- 
lated substitution of word or phrase; but even here what 
we have is still primarily and distinctly a reshaping of 
the larger unit — not a mechanical building up of syllable 
on syllable already shaped beyond the poet’s control be- 
fore he picks them out. Within certain limits they are 
unformed and plastic until fixed in a specific collocation, 
which then — speaking generally —admits without dis- 
tortion only one rhythm, that which the poet had in 
mind. 

Now holding fast this recognition of the fact that the 
poet’s mental action is so rapid and is largely below the 
level of consciousness, and that, dealing primarily with 
the larger group, he considers the single syllables only 
in their relation to that, we may describe in the follow- 
ing way the purely metrical side of what he does in 
composing English verse. He so selects and arranges 
words that the reader will find strongly stressed syllables 
coming naturally into the majority of the more promin- 
ent times of the desired rhythm,—or into enough of 
these to determine clearly how the other syllables are 
to make the rest of the pattern. The only essential V 
feature of our word-accent is stress; other elements, 
like change of speech-tune, may be present or absent, - 
and are variable; but removal of stress to another 
syllable is a change in accentuation. The stress accent 
in our words being very little under the arbitrary con- 
trol of the poet or of any individual, we say it is fixed. 
It could easily be proved by scores of examples that, as 
was said above, a degree of freedom is permitted even 
here that would surprise one who has not given attention 
to the question; but it is still true that the principal 
word-accents determine the majority of the more promin- 
ent time-intervals. That is a fuller and more detailed 


96 ‘CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


statement of what we mean, and of all that we ought to 
mean, in saying, as we do with truth, that English verse 
is based on word-accent. But in all this there is no 
place for the pernicious assumption that in English 
an accented syllable is long, the unaccented short. Only 
in a sense that is misleading, and has misled most writers 
on English metric, can those terms be treated as generally 
convertible or equivalent. Until that equation is defi- 
nitely discarded, clear notions of rhythm in English are 
practically impossible. At least one modern poet besides 
Lanier, namely Tennyson, recognized this distinctly ; 
and it would be difficult to find a poet possessing a 
keener insight into the principles of his own art. 

To indicate precisely what is properly meant by say- 
ing that Greek versification, in contrast with English, is 
based on quantity, the matter may be put thus. In 
English and German speech much is made of differences 
in stress, quite apart from versification. Some syllables 
are passed over so lightly that one may even doubt 
whether a separate syllable is formed or not, and usage 
may vary on the same syllable. Others are spoken 
always distinctly and forcibly; these by contrast appear 
very heavily stressed ; in most words of more than one 
syllable usage has settled which one shall receive the 
heaviest stress. Monosyllables pronounced alone all 
seem accented; in continuous discourse some are felt to 
be more significant and are more likely to receive a 
stress, others less important are likely to be passed 
over lightly. For rhetorical purposes also much use is 
made of stress, which is heavier on the more emphasized 
word, lighter on the less important; thus stress is made 
to render part of the service in conveying meaning that 
in Greek or Latin was rendered by word-order. In these 
several ways all grades of variation in stress between the 


RHYTHM AND LANGUAGE 97 


two extremes are in constant use. To my ear modern 
Greek and Italian seem to make distinctly less use of it ; 
apparently different dialects vary a good deal in this 
regard, and of course no one doubts that those languages 
also employ it enough to be properly called accentual. 
In ancient Greek on the other hand stress had but a 
narrow field; it was at least as-nearly level as in modern 
French, probably more so. Between word-order, parti- 
cles, and the pitch-accent, about all the functions of 
stress in English, leaving rhythm out of view, appear 
to have been fully supplied without stress. A stress so 
nearly level that speaker and listener were hardly con- 
scious of any variation could not play a leading part in 
determining rhythm. Shifting of the points of slightly 
heavier stress from one syllable to another, for any reason, 
could not cause any confusion or seem strange, —as 
with us variation of the speech-tune on the same word 
in different collocations does not seem to affect in the 
least the identity of the words, although in Greek it did, 
except in singing. Even in modern French a good deal 
of such shifting of stress, of which the Frenchman 
is perhaps not conscious, is noticed by the foreigner. 
When a Frenchman with a good command of English 
speaks it in some excitement, he is apt to treat our 
accents with the freedom of his own language, as rather. 
variable, unless he has acquired with remarkable thor- 
oughness our peculiar intonations. On the other hand, 
as every Greek syllable (elision and the like apart) was 
pronounced with fairly equal precision, variations in 
quantity or quality of vowel or consonant, such as we 
admit freely in unstressed syllables, were of necessity 
less free. Without at least some variation in time of 
pronunciation of the separate elements rhythm was 


impossible; but the limits were narrower; in compari- 
7 


98 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


son with English, quantity may be said to have been 
fixed. The difference between “long” and “short” 
syllables was just about as distinct as in English be- 
tween accented and unaccented, and could no more be 
overlooked by the ordinary speaker. 

A Greek, therefore, desiring to produce a particular 
xpdvev tagis, so selected and arranged words that the 
reader would find long syllables coming naturally into 
the majority of the more prominent times,—or into 
enough of these to determine clearly the place of the 
other syllables in the arrangement, 7. ¢., how ,the other 
syllables should constitute the other times. The ques- 
tion whether any stress at all accompanied the more 
prominent times, which were marked by the down beat 
when one kept time by beating, I still postpone a little. 
Finally it should be noted that a very slight change in J 
the relative prominence of stress in comparison with 
qualitative precision, in the utterance of groups of syl- 
lables, is enough to cause a language to shift from the - 
accentual to the quantitative basis in rhythmization. It 
is therefore nothing surprising that the two systems 
existed for generations side by side in late Latin and 
Greek. 


IV 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 


By this gradual approach, from the side of rhythm in 
nature and in other activities of man, through rhythm 
in a typical living language, we have finally reached the 
central problem of Greek rhythm. The reader cannot 
but inquire whether this conception of rhythm is not 
inapplicable to Greek, because based too much on habits 
of speech purely modern, or at least not Greek. Was 
there any recognition of such ideas by the ancients them- 
selves? To answer this requires examination of several 
passages from Aristoxenos and others; and a careful 
examination, because previous discussion of the same 
passages by the most competent scholars has in part 
issued in very diverse interpretation. Only some method 
of approach at least partially new, and implying wider 
comparison and induction, combined with more careful 
scrutiny, affords any hope of advance. 

We have seen that Plato, Aristotle, and their suc- 
cessors were aware that rhythm has a large place in 
nature, though they could not realize so fully as we how 
large; also that they did not overlook the natural bond 
of kinship uniting the various forms of rhythm in many 
human activities, whereof speech is one. But this is 
not enough. Have we evidence that competent ancient 
observers recognized in syllabic quantities the degree 
of elasticity assumed? And did their conception of 
rhythm in language admit such unbroken gradation from 
simple speech through artistic prose and spoken verse 


100 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


to song? At least the former of these two questions, 
the fundamental one, has been generally answered in the 
negative. ‘I'he reason for that appears to be that state- 
ments of the metrici, interpreted with a little twist 
because not taken in their true relation to other evi- 
dence, created a strong prepossession in favor of the hard 
and fast rule, long is to short as two to one. The other 
evidence was approached with that prepossession well 
settled; consequently statements of Aristoxenos that 
would otherwise have seemed sufficiently clear were 
explained away, or were taken with such restrictions that 
the real force was obscured. It is necessary to put aside 
that prepossession ; to aid in clearing it away was part of 
the object of Chapter II, “ Rhythmicus or Metricus?” 

In that chapter (pp. 42-52) were quoted a series of 
passages differentiating ‘rhythmi’ from ‘ metra,’ and de- 
claring that in ‘rhythmi’—that is, as we found, in 
more elaborate melic verse — the times of syllables were 
shortened and prolonged with great freedom, in disregard - 
of the “ metrical”’ rule of two to one; that rule prevailed 
only in the ‘ metra’ or verses of the simpler type, which 
were destined for reading only,— or which at any rate 
preserved their proper rhythm in plain reading unadorned 
by mAdopa. I see no admissible understanding of those 
paragraphs that does not include the conception of con- 
siderable elasticity of syllabic quantity, at least in lyric 
verse. Those texts, however, do not stand alone, but 
are supplemented by others that accord with them and 
state the matter more plainly. 

The very term pvOufopuevov, applied to the material 
or medium which embodies a ypévev ragis and makes 
it perceptible to one or more of our senses, of itself 
naturally suggests the same conception. Unless there 
is positive evidence to the contrary, he who employs 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 101 


that present passive participle to denote Aefis, xivnors 
copatixn, eros, and any other medium of rhythm, must 
be understood to mean that all alike are rhythmized, or 
submitted to a shaping force from without; that the 
pvOmorroids shapes and puts into rhythm a material more 
or less plastic, or capable of being moulded. And Aris- 
toxenos explicitly says this in the following words: 

Nonréov é dv0 tTivas dices TavTas, THY TE TOD PO mod 
Kat tHY TOD pvOmloudvov, TapaTAnclws éxovcas pos 
adAnras dowep eye TO coxa Kal TO oxnwaTiCouevor 
mpos avtd. womep yap TO cdma Trelous idéas AapBaver 
oxnudrav, éav avtod Ta pépn Ten Suvadepdvtws, nToL 
TavTA H TWA avTOV, OVTW Kal TaV pvOuLCouevwr ExacToV 
mrelous NawBave popdas, ov kata THY avTod puow, adda 
KaTa THY TOD pvOuod. % yap adTn réEis eis ypdvoUS TeE- 
Gcica Staddpovtas adrAnr@v AawBave tivdas Siadopas, 
Tovavtas at etow toa aitais Ths ToD pudwod dicews dia- 
gopais. 0 avtos d€ Adyos Kal éri tod wédous Kal el TL 
GdXro Tépune pudwilecOar TH ToLoiTw pvOu@ bs éorw éx 
xpovev suvertnkas. (P. 268, 270 Mor.) 

That is: “* We are to regard these as two natures, as 
it were, that of the rhythm and that of the rhythmized 
material, so related to each other as are the form and 
the material formed. Just as the body, for example, 
takes various shapes, if its parts are differently placed, 
either all or some of them, so too each of the pu@wifopeva 
takes various forms, not by virtue of its own nature but 
by virtue of that of rhythm. For example, the same 
group of syllables, when put into different time-intervals, 
takes on certain differences, such as are equal to differ- 
ences which in themselves belong to the nature of the 
rhythm. The same statement holds also in the case of 
a melody, and of anything else that is capable of rhyth- 
mization by such a rhythm as consists of times.” 


102 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


The last phrase is added to exclude other senses of 
pv@uds discussed in the previous book, particularly the 
application to objects without motion. I do not see how 
the doctrine in question could be stated more clearly. 
Observe first the nature of his illustration. ‘There is no 
hint that c@pa is to be taken in any other than its ordi- 
nary sense. The human body takes an infinite variety of 
shapes or postures, as the limbs, neck, shoulders, trunk, 
are differently bent, extended, contracted. There are 
strict limits of height, breadth, and so on; the weight 
remains the same; but within those limits the dimen- 
sions are varied at will. This is in the realm of space. 
So of each puvOusléuevov in the realm of time. And 
luckily the pu@usfouevov to which he now specifically 
applies the doctrine is language. The same word or 
group of words may be put by the fv@porrods into dif- 
ferent time-intervals, whose differences are inherent in 
the different rhythms, not in the words. The particular 
rhythm is conceived as a mould or pattern to which a 
pliable material is made to conform; the pattern exists 
in the mind of the pv@uorrods, and receives objective 
audible existence only by embodiment in a puOufopevor. 
Examples of syllabic groups variously rhythmized are 
easily found. The phrase ’Ay:AXéws mai begins an iam- 
bic trimeter in Soph., Phil. 50 ; in 57 the same words are 
embedded in the line, thus: 


Aéyetv, "AyirArEws mais’ Tod’ ovyl KreTTEoV. 


The two rhythmical values of the phrase are (using > 
to indicate an irrational syllable) vp —v — >and v — >_. 
Again, Theognis begins a dactylic hexameter with the 
words evyowéevm wot xrX0Gc; he has also the elegiac penta- 
meter 


aelow* ov dé wot KrADOL Kal écOrAd SiSov. 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 103 


The words mot crv. have the two values ——v and 
uv. Again, the word adr@ would ordinarily have in 
the hexameter the value — —, or before a vowel — v; in 
iambic trimeter the value might be >~— or —>; in 
Aisch., Ag. 170 f. 


Zeds boris wor éativ, ei TOO avT@ Hirov KexrAnpev@ 


the value is --—. Such examples are plenty enough. 
In each case it is the neighboring syllables that show 
which of the possible values was intended by the poet. 
It is strange that the plain meaning of eis ypdvous TeBcica 
Siadépovras is not accepted in full by Westphal (Gr. 
Rhythmik, p. 70). He translates reJeioa zerlegt, and 
selects for an example the phrase é@aves dmredvOns, which 
can be differently divided as trochaic, iambic, anapestic, 
dochmiac, with no alteration of relative times for the 
syllables, except that the final syllable in the iambic form 
is irrational. Yet as parallel examples of puédos he cites 
musical phrases in which the same pitch intervals are 
employed, but with differences between the time-ratios. 
These musical examples conform exactly to the meaning 
of Aristoxenos; only in the case of A€£is does Westphal 
refuse to admit that meaning, because on other (and 
mistaken) grounds he had decided that syllables were 
not thus elastic. This is not the only instance where 
Westphal, carrying through with strict logic a precon- 
ceived belief, has misinterpreted the author to whom he 
devoted his life, and for our understanding of whom he 
has done more than any other man. The paragraphs 
that follow the above in the puOwixd ororyeia enlarge 
upon and carry out into some details the same concep- 
tion of syllabic quantities. Thus it is affirmed that the 
rhythm is oddevt trav pvOulopevwrv 76 adtd, adda ToY 
SiatiO&vr@v mas 7d puOwSdpmevov Kal trovovvt@v Kata TOvS 


104 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


xpdvous ToLovde 7 Toudvde. (IIS 5 W.) In ScatvCvrwv ras 
alone there might be ambiguity; but none is left when v 
it is added that the rhythm “makes the rhythmized 
material of this or that character as regards its time- 
intervals.” Farther at the end of § 8: rotodrov vontéov 7d 
puOwrSopevov olov divacbat wetatiVec Oa eis ypdvev peryé- 

On mavrodaTra Kat eis EvvOdceas Tavtodards. Capability 

of very various rhythmization is affirmed of all fv6- 
puCoueva. 

The distinction between fu@uds and puOmorroiia points © 
the same way; it isset forth in the following paragraphs 
of the puOuixa crovyeia. 

(1) "Or & éoriv od 7d adté pvOpotrotia Te Kal pududs, 
cages pev ovrw pddvov éott Trovhoat, mictevésOw é did 
THS pnOncopévns omordtnTos. waTrep yap év TH TOD médoUS 
dice TeVewpyxaper, STL ov TO AUTO GVoTHMA TE Kal MéEXO- 
qotia, ovde TdVOS, OVOe Yévos, OVSE peTaBOAH, OVTWS HTrO- 
AnTréov eye Kal epi Tors pvOpovs Te Kal puOmorrotias, 
_@reconmep Tod médous yphaly Tiva THY pedoTroLiav evpouEv — 
ovcar, rite THs pvOmiKhs tmpaypwatelas THY pvOmotroiiay 
ocavTos ypholv twa hapev elvat. cadéotepov dé TovTo 
etcouc0a tmrpoerGotons THS mpaypatelas. (P. 282 f. Mor.; 
II § 13 W.) 

(2) Act 8é wr Siapapretv év rots viv eipnuévos, bTrodap- 
Badvovras ph peplSecOar mdda ets mrelo THY TeTTApoV 
dpOudv peplfovrar yap eo. trav mwodav eis Simddovov 
Tod elpnudvov mAnGouvs apiOpov Kal eis moddaTAaovor. 
GN’ ob nal’ airov 6 Tods els TO WAoV Tod Elpnwevouv 
mrnOous peplterat, AN bd THs puOporrotias Siacpetrar 
Tas Totavras Siatpéces. vonréov S& ywpls Ta Te THY TOD 
modes Stvamuw durdocovra onpueta Kal tas bd Ths pvd- 
porroias ytvowévas Siarpéces’ Kal mpocberdov dé Tots 
elpnmévols, St. Ta pev exdotov Todds onwela Stapéver ioa 
dvTa Kab T@ GpLOu@ Kab TO peyOer, ai © bd TAS puPpo- 


RHYTHM IN GREEK . 105 


movtas yivdpevar Siarpéoes TOAAHY AapBadvover TrotKiréiav. 
gorar S& todto Kal év Trois rata davepov. (P. 290f. 
Mor.; II § 19 W.) 

(3) Tédv 88 ypdver of pév eior rrodixol, ot Sé THs pu0po- 
mrotias (dot. Troduxds mev oov éote Ypdvos o KaTéxov onpel- 
ov Trodixod péyeOos, olov dpoews 7» Bacews, » Sdov mrodds . 
iSvos 88 puOporrosias 6 TapadAdcowv TadTa TA peyeOn 
el’ él 7d puxpov elt’ él Td wéya. Kal gore puOwos pev 
@otrep elpntar ctoTnmd Te ouyKelwevov ex THY TodiKaY 
ypdveav dv o wey dpoews, 0 dé Bacews, 6 dé 6XoV Todds * 
pvOmotraia & av eln TO ovyxelwevov Ex TE THY TOOLK@V 
ypdvev kal éx Tav avThs Ths puOporrosias idiwv. (Frag. 
Psell. 8.) 

The above may be translated thus. “That sv@uorrovla 
is not the same thing as rhythm it is not easy to make 
clear as yet, but let the following comparison induce 
belief. As in the nature of music we have observed 
that ctotnua is not the same as peAorrocia, nor yet Tdvos 
nor yévos nor wetaBor, so also you are to understand in 
regard to rhythm and pv@yoroila ; since we found that 
pedotrotia is a particular treatment or concrete example 
of tune, and in the discussion of rhythmic we say in like 
manner that pvO@por7ror/a is a particular treatment or con- 
crete example of rhythm.” 

“ But you must avoid going astray in the statements 
just made, by supposing that a foot is not divided into 
a greater number of parts than four. For some of the 
feet are in fact divided into twice that number of parts 
and into several times as many. Not in itself, however, 
is the foot divided into more than the aforesaid number 
of parts, but such divisions are produced by the fv@mo- 
motta. We must consider as distinct the onpeta that 
preserve the character and significance of the foot and 
those divisions that are produced by the fu@poroiia. 


106 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


And it must be added to the foregoing that the onpeta 
of each foot continue the same, equal in number and 
magnitude, while the divisions produced by the fu@po- 
mova admit great diversity. ‘This will be plain as we 
go on.” 

“Of the time-intervals some are characteristic of the 
foot, others peculiar to the pu@uomota. A foot-time is 
one that retains the magnitude of a onpetov of the foot, — 
as of arsis or thesis or a whole foot; a time peculiar to 
the pv@uorroiéa is one that changes these magnitudes, 
whether in the way of diminution or of increase (or, 
that varies from those magnitudes more or less). And 
rhythm, as has been said, is a system made up of foot- 
times, one of which is that of the arsis, another that of 
the thesis, another that of the whole foot; while a pvé- 
poorrotia (%.¢.,a concrete specimen) would be that which 
is made up of both the foot-times and those peculiar to 
the pvOporroria itself.” . 

With these may be put a passage from the Harmonica. 
Aristoxenos has been explaining that one must in the 
study of music accustom oneself to judge accurately by 
hearing, and the more so because the study has to do in 
part with magnitudes, that is pitch-intervals, that are 
not constant. Emphasizing and illustrating the change- 
able character of some of those magnitudes, he says 
(p. 834 Mb.): 

Iladuv év rots rept rods puOmods mrorAda Toad?” opapev 
yiyvopweva* Kal yap pévovtos Tod Adyou Ka ov Si@piorat 
Ta yévn TA peyeOn KiveiTaL TOY TrOdaY Sia THY THS ayoyAs 
dvvapiv, Kal TOY peyeOOv pevdvT@Y avdmolot yiyvovTat oF 
mooes* Kal avTo Td wéyeOos mdda Te SUvaTat Kal cuvtvyiav* 
dprov & br Kal ai tadv Siaipécewv te Kal oynpadtov d.a- 
opal rept pévov te péyeOos yiyvovtat. xaOdrov © eimeiv 
% bev pvOpotrotia TroAXas Kal TavTodaTras KiveiTat, of Se 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 107 


modoes ols onpaopnela tovs puOmors amas Te Kal Tas 
auTas ai. 

In English: “ Again in dealing with rhythms we see 
many such phenomena. While for instance the ratio 
remains the same, by which the classes of rhythm are 
determined, the magnitudes of the feet are changed by 
the effect of the tempo; and again the feet are rendered 
unlike while magnitudes remain the same, so that the 
same magnitude equals now a foot now a dipody; evi- 
dently in that case the differences in the divisions and 
the forms are made in connection with a magnitude 
that is constant. And in general pu0uorola under- 
goes many changes of various kinds, while the feet by 
which we mark for ourselves the character of the 
rhythms admit only changes that are simple and always 
the same.” 

These sentences need little farther elucidation. Aris- 
toxenos conceived of each particular sort of rhythm as 
consisting of feet of the appropriate kinds, admitting, 
as distinct feet, only a limited number of changes. For 
example, dactylic rhythm in the abstract contains only 
_ dactyls varied to spondees, which introduce no new 
xpdvot trodvcot; and in the hexameter no other times, pe- 
culiar to the pu@puozrov/a, are admitted. Iambic rhythm 
in the abstract contains only iambi, varied to tribrachs, 
of which the ypévor mrodvxot are those of arsis, thesis and 
whole foot, in the ratio of 1, 2, 3; the iambus contains 
the times 1+2=8, the tribrachs the times 14+1+1=3. 
But in actual puvOuorola in the iambic class the lyric 
poets introduced many variations, producing a rather 
large set of times peculiar to the pu@uomola. Thus in 
place of v — might appear ut, in which a thesis and 


1 Cf. Westphal, Gr. Rhythmik, pp. 119-180. 


108 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


following arsis-unite into one xpdvos that oversteps the 
boundary of the foot as they conceived it; in place of 
v—v—v might appear vt-t.. These and many other 
variations from the theoretical forms (by which never- 
theless the fundamental character of the movement is de- 
termined) are part of a rhythmizing process that moulds 
a plastic material; the simple adding together of long 
and short syllables, in the ratio of two to one, cannot 
produce such combinations. The result is that in puOuo- 
qotia the divisions are in truth often manifold, and the 
mooes ovvOero. of Aristoxenos might be divided into 
several times four parts, while the simple feet in their 
theoretical form, which the conductor followed in his 
beating (as the modern conductor does), and which ran 
along in the mind of the musician as the skeleton pattern 
underlying the complicated pv@uorola, contained but 
two, three, or four ypdvot modixol. The whole fvOpmo- 
mola as a concrete thing would thus in fact be a com-. 
pound made up of the ypévor mrodixoé and those peculiar 
to the fuOuomola. Those verses which the metricians 
called ‘rhythmi’ in the passages quoted above (p. 42- 
52) were examples of this, in contrast with the ‘ metra,’ 
which contained little, many of them nothing, outside 
of the ypdvor modixot. To us this separate treatment 
of the two systems of times, those of the pu@ucs and 
those of the pv@mozros/a,! seems at first rather strange, 
perhaps more obfuscating than clarifying; Aristoxenos 
found, as we have seen, that it struck his listeners and 
readers in the same way. In reality the ypevor ris 
puOpmorrotias tdévot are as normal as the ypdvor modixol, 


1 The new fragments published by Grenfell and Hunt (Oxyrhynchus 
Papyri, Pt. I, pp. 14-21) appear to be from a section on ju@uoroila, and 
from the second chapter of it, that on xpjors. Compare Aristid. Q., 
p- 42 Mb. 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 109 


and stand on the same level with them. Both alike 
arise naturally in the rhythmizing process, and the still 
more intricate time-intervals of prose are no less legiti- 
mate and natural. But there can be no doubt what the 
idea of Aristoxenos was. And as a solid basis for the 
distinction remains the fact that in any given poetic or 
musical rhythm the fundamental character of the move- 
ment was really defined by the ypévor mrodixol. Enough 
of these had to appear in their proper order to make a 
distinct impression of their character; else the whole 
seemed to have too little regularity for verse or music. 
The only method of treatment by which the two systems 
of times could be put on the same level and treated 
together was not invented till centuries later. The times 
employed in ancient music could all be described and 
noted accurately enough by the method of Aristoxenos, 
if not always so simply as might be wished. But when 
in its further development the rhythm of instrumental 
music became much more intricate still, the old theory 
of the foot as determined by the ratio between arsis and 
thesis, either of which might stand first, was found quite 
inadequate; the modern theory of the measure, as deter- 
mined by the number of beats and always beginning 
with a down beat, inevitably resulted. But we are not 
to disdain Aristoxenos for not discovering a method that 
his contemporaries would have thought still stranger and 
less acceptable than the one he followed. His method 
is intelligible, and is perfectly sound within its own 
sphere, however different from ours; and it contains 
such unmistakable recognition of elasticity in syllabic 
quantities that one cannot but wonder that this has been 
so little regarded. 

So too of the doctrine of addoy/a, which Aristoxenos 
thus describes: 


110 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


“Optorat S& tay today Exactos Tot Ady@ Til 4 ado- 
yla toratTn, nts S00 Adyov yvopluwv TH aicOnoe avd 
pécov Ecrat. yévorto & av To eipnuévov dd katadhaves’ 
ei AnPOeinoav Svo mddes, 6 pév icov TO dvw TO KaTW ~yov 
kai Sicnmov éxatepov, o Oé TO wév KaTw Slanpov, Td dé advo 
jpiov, tplros Sé tis AnPOetn rods trapa TovToUs, THY pev 
Baow tonv ad trois audorépas éywv, tHv 5 dpow pécov 
péyeGos Eyoucay TAV dpoewv. oO yap TOLOUTOS Trovs AAoryoY | 
peév E€er TO dvw pos TO KaTwW* Eotar 8 % adroyia perakd 
S00 Adyov yvopivev TH aicOnoe, Tod Te icov Kal Tov 
Surdaclov. Kanreirat 8 odros yopetos aroyos. (P. 292 f. 
Mor. ; II § 20 W.) 

That is: ‘ Each of the feet is determined and defined 
either by a precise ratio or by an incommensurable ratio 
such that it will be between two ratios recognizable by 
the sense. What is meant may be made clear thus. 
First take two feet, one having the time of the up-beat 
equal to that of the down-beat, and each two-timed, the 
other having the down-beat two-timed and the up-beat 
half that. Then put beside these a third foot having 
the down-beat equal to the other two, but the arsis of a 
length between the other arses. ‘The foot so described 
will have the up-beat irrational or incommensurable with 
reference to the down-beat; and the incommensurable 
ratio will be between two ratios that the sense distin- 
guishes, namely 2:2 and 2:1. This foot is called an 
irrational choree.” To guard against misunderstanding, 
Aristoxenos proceeds to point out analogies in the theory 
of pitch-intervals; but to make his comparison useful 
here would require too long and technical an explanation 
of that theory also. The point is that there also are 
certain intervals which, even though perhaps expressible 
by fractions, such as one-twelfth, and therefore cata tous 
Tov aplOuav pdvov Adyous pynTa, are yet not employed in 


RHYTHM IN GREEK py! 


music and are not recognized by the sense as rational. 
To per odv év pv0u@ AapBavepevov pyntov ypdvov pwéyeOos 
mMp@tov wev Set TAY TiTToVTMY eis THY puOuoTrotiay civaL, 
€relta TOD Todos év @ TéTaKTal pépos elvat pynTdv.... 
gavepov Se dia Trav eipnucvar, Sti  méon AnPUcioa Tav 
dpoewv ov éorat cvppetpos TH Bdoer* ovdév yap a’tav 
bérpov éott xowdv évpvOuov. “ Accordingly a time- 
interval that is taken as rational in rhythm must in the 
first place be one of those that fit into rhythmical com- 
position, secondly it must be a rational fraction of the 
foot in which it is placed. . . . But it is clear from the 
foregoing that the arsis assumed, between the other arses 
in extent, will not be commensurable with the thesis; 
for they have no common measure that is employed in 
rhythm.” 

Westphal (Gr. Rhythmik, p. 131 ff.) takes ava pécov 
and mweragév to mean just half-way between, and gives for 
the irrational choree the ratio 2:14. That assumption 
is not supported by the general use of the words peraéd 
and pécos, nor by the context here. The common mean- 
ing of both words is simply between, somewhere between 
boundaries named or implied; if a greater precision was 
desired, some precisely defining word or phrase had to 
be added. Moreover, Westphal’s interpretation is incon- 
sistent with other statements of Aristoxenos. For the 
ratio thus obtained is pytds, not an adoyia, for it is 
simply the Adyos érirpitos, or 4: 8. And that according 
to Aristoxenos is one of the ratios admitted in fvOpo- 
motia; for though he admits in cuvey# or continuous 
pu@uorrotla only the dactylic, iambic, and paionic, yet he 
expressly says, yiverat 5é wrote trovs Kal év tpitracip 
Adyo, yiverar 5é kal év éritpitra (Frag. ap. Psell. 9, p. 
85 W.). Therefore the ratio 2: 1} is certainly a Adyos 
pntds, and hence cannot be what Aristoxenos intended 


112 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


by aroyla. The ordinary meaning of ava pécov and 
pera£vd is the only one admissible. An irrational foot 
was one in which the ratio between arsis and thesis was 
not expressible in small whole numbers and was not 
measured by the ear exactly, though it was recognized 
as being between the ratios 2: 2 and 2: 1 (possibly also 
between 2: 2 and 2:3). ‘Those simple ratios are readily 


distinguished by the ear, which can also affirm with — 
certainty that a third ratio lies between them, without . 


being able or caring to measure it more exactly. Such 
an indeterminate ratio between arsis and thesis con- 
stituted a mods adoyos; a syllable thus breaking away 
from the ordinary precise numerical relation to its neigh- 
bors was dXoyos. 

But whether this or Westphal’s. understanding of the 
matter be accepted, the existence of irrational feet in 
either sense implies elasticity of syllabic quantity. An 
irrational syllable arises from the compression of a 
“long” syllable or the prolongation of a “short.” A 
syllable which in one connection is two-timed becomes 
in another irrational; or else a syllable which in one con- 
nection is one-timed becomes in another irrational. <A 
new collocation leads one to make the change, which 
the reader recognizes from the collocation alone. This 
is substantially what happens in English verse. In the 
lines, 

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 
The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea, 


the arsis winds, and in a slightly less degree -few, are 
such that they do not allow compression to the shortest 
xpdvos modixds, that of such arses as the in any of its 
four occurrences. In other collocations either of them 
might be a full two-timed syllable; winds would admit 


er a oe 


i 


ee Se ee 


Se 


— 


ee 


—— aah 


2 


, & i ie 











RHYTHM IN GREEK 113 


as great protraction as any syllable in the language. 
But here both are naturally spoken as something be- 
tween one-timed and two-timed. Just what their time 
is, between those two limits, the rhythmic sense cannot 
determine and does not care; they are felt as retarding 
the time a little, thereby effecting a pleasant relief from 
the dull monotony of an arithmetical precision. They 
are dXoyos in the Aristoxenean sense. 

That considerable class of syllables known as common 
are a still more familiar illustration of the same princi- 
ple of rhythmization, —an illustration so conspicuous 
and so frequently recurring that even the metrici could 
not overlook it. For what is a common syllable but one 
that may at will be made long or short? It is to be 
remembered also that this class of common syllables 
includes many besides those in which a vowel naturally 
short is followed by a mute and liquid, of which the 
former may be placed now in one syllable now in the 
other. That explanation of the variable quantity can 
at best account for but a part of the cases. Partial 
loss of quantity in hiatus is another familiar change 
closely related to the variability of common syllables. 

We have thus reviewed a series of phenomena 
described by Aristoxenos and others, the reality of which 
in Greek versification is beyond question. It does not 
seem to have occurred to any ancient observer to group 
them together under one principle. Yet plainly all are 
but different manifestations of a single force no less active 
in Greek and Latin speech than in our own, if we will 
look beneath the surface and see the real unity under 
external variety. ‘The impulse to rhythmize, which acts 
on so many other materials, acted constantly in the 
speakers of Greek; it led them to put each combination 
of words, taken in larger groups, into as good a rhythm 

8 


114 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


as the material, all things considered, would allow. This 
impulse alone would suffice to keep spoken syllables of 
a living tongue more or less flexible. An interesting 
suggestion of this view of the matter, if nothing more 
than a suggestion, is preserved in the definition of ‘ ver- 
sus’ attributed to Varro (in Marius Vict., p. 55 K.). 
Versus, ut Varroni placet, verborum iunctura, que per 
articulos et commata et rhythmos modulatur in pedes. 
One is tempted on the basis of this to believe that Aris- 
toxenos somewhere recognized this view even more dis- 
tinctly than in the fragments known to us. 

What then is really meant when certain syllables are 
called long and certain others are called short? A long 
syllable in Greek is one that does not admit sufficient 
compression to represent the ypovos mpatros unequivo- 
cally. If by exception it occupies a position where the 
exact rhythmic pattern (pv@ués in Aristoxenos’s nar- 
rower sense) leads us to expect a syllable that shall have 
only the time of the ypévos mparos, a long syllable 
retards the movement a little; it produces a time-inter- 
val, variable with circumstances, but in general incom- 
mensurable with the others, or dAoyos. In the earliest 
period, and always in the most widely used verse, 
the dactylic hexameter, no long syllable is allowed 
to occupy such a position. In many kinds of verse a 
long was often allowed, within certain restrictions, to 
stand in place of a ypévos mparos, but with an effect of 
retardation; while it could fill a déonwos ypdvos, or a 
three-timed or four-timed, with no suggestion of inade- 
quacy. Thus a long syllable, if we take as a standard its 
most common length of two times, is capable of consider- 
able extension but of only slight compression. A short 
syllable on the other hand cannot fill a déonpos ypdvos 
unequivocally. If asked to do so, as it apparently was 





RHYTHM IN GREEK 115 


occasionally in some meters, there was a slight inade- 
quacy, a little hastening of the time. But it might in 
some circumstances be crowded into less than the ypévos 
mpatos, two short syllables together having somewhat 
the effect of a long syllable in like position. A more 
detailed examination of such cases belongs elsewhere. 

We have still to consider the relation between verse 
and prose, and must include in this examination another 
side than the rhythmical. For Westphal has so empha- 
sized and insisted upon a marked difference between 
gesagter and gesungener Vers,’ and that difference has 
been so widely adopted as proved, that we must follow 
the course of his argument closely enough to see where 
and why he erred. 

The Allgemeine Theorie d. gr. Metrik begins with a 
translation and discussion of the remarks of Aristoxe- 
nos on the difference in movement of the speaking and 
the singing voice.2_ These remarks are combined erro- 
neously with Frag. 6 in Psellos, perhaps from the first 
book of the Elements of Rhythm, so as to derive 
therefrom the conclusion that Aristoxenos made a sharp 
distinction between spoken verse and song as regards 
rhythm. This conclusion is then strengthened by an 
unwarrantable application of Dionysios Hal., De Comp. 
Verb. 17 and 20. We will take up only so much of this 
as is necessary for the purpose of finding and avoiding 
the error, and will begin with the Psellos fragment 6, 
which reads: 


1 Gr. Rhythmik, p. 42 ff.,and Aristoxenos, I. p. 220ff. Westphal 
and Gleditsch, Gr. Metrik, pp. 1-21. 

2 This topic has been gone over with great lucidity by Dr. C. W. L. 
Johnson, Trans. Am. Phil. Assoc. for 1899, Vol. XXX, pp. 42-55, who 
however confines himself strictly to exposition of the musical side, 
scarcely touching the rhythmical problem. 


116 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Tav dé puvOploudvav Exactov obte Kiweita. cvvexas 
OUTE NpEemel, GAN’ évadrAGE. Kal THY pev Hpewiavy onpaiver 
Té Te oXT MA Kal Oo POdyyos Kal 4 cvAAABH. ovddevds yap 
TovTwv éotiv aicbdcbat dvev TOD HpcuncaL* THY dé Kivnow 
n peTaBacls 4 aro oxHpaTOS él oXHMA, Kal 4% ard POdy- 
you él dO0dyyov, Kal 4 amo cvAdAaBAS él cvdArALHP. 
etal Oé of piv bo THY NpEMLaV KaTEYdmEvoL YpdVOL YyVept- 
pol, of d€ bd THY KiVHTEwOY AyvaoToL Sia opmLKpdTHTA 
Bomep Opot tivés dvtTes THY UFO TAV HpEmlav KaTEXoMeVOV 
xpdveav. vontéov dé kal Todo Sti THY pvOmiKav ovoTHnma- 
Tov &xaoTov ovxX opmolws ovyKerTat Ex Te TOV Yvopipov 
Ypdvov KaTa TO TOTOY Kal ex TV ayvOoTwV, AN eK pev 
TOV yvoplwwV KATA TO TrOTdV WS ex pEepaV TLWaV avYyKELTAL 
Ta cvoTHMATA, ex O€ TAV ayVecTaV ws ex TaV SioptfovT@V 
TOUS yvwpimous KATA TO TrOTOY YpdvoOUS. 

That is: “Each of the fv@mféuera is neither in 
motion nor at rest continuously, but is both by turns. 
The period of rest is marked by the bodily position, the 
musical note, and the syllable, for no one of these can be 
perceived without the cessation of motion; the period of 
motion is marked by the transition from position to 
position, from note to note, and from syllable to syllable. 
The times occupied by the periods of rest are determin- 
able, while the periods of motion are not determinable, 
because of brevity, serving as boundaries, as it were, to 
the times occupied by periods of rest. This too should 
be observed, that each of the systems of rhythm consists 
both of the times whose length is determinate and of 
those whose length is indeterminate, but not in like 
manner; the combinations consist of the known quanti- 
ties as constituent parts and of the unknown quantities 
as separating and bounding the known.” 

The terms yvepimos and ayvwortos are not easy to 
translate consistently, though their meaning is clear, 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 117 


and is not obscured, I hope, by the above rendering. It 
is evident that x.véw and «ivnots have a broader applica- 
tion than our words ‘ move’ and ‘motion’ and that jpewéa 
too receives a technical sense. The transition from one 
bodily position to another in the dance, that from one 
note to another in music, and that from one syllable to 
another in language, are so far analogous that all alike 
are called motion. In contrast with them the continu- 
ance in one bodily position, the remaining on one musi- 
cal note, and the remaining within the limits of one 
syllable, are called rest, —mnot absence of sound, but 
absence of motion. To us the term rest appears least 
fitting in the case of syllables. It is entirely fitting in 
the case of the dance and not far-fetched when applied to 
musical tone. It must be granted that the application 
to syllables would seem to us easier if syllables in song 
alone were intended, as Westphal affirms. But against 
that assumption it must be said first that the passage 
contains no hint of such a restriction. There is nothing 
to suggest that the triad here thought of is any other 
than the familiar one of kivnots cwpatixy, wéros, AéEts, 
each in its fullest extent. Westphal introduced the 
restriction of Aéfis here because he thought the other 
passage, to be considered later, required it. Again, if 
syllable did here refer only to the syllable as sung, the 
third case mentioned would be ‘practically identical with 
the second. Syllable and note coincided in singing, 
except when two notes of different pitch were put for 
one long syllable. But this no more called for separate 
mention in so summary an account than did, under the 
second head, two successive notes of instrumental music 
on the same pitch, yet divided by an interruption, 
though this is another kind of werdSacrs than that from 
one pitch to a higher or lower. The transition from one 


118 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


instrumental note to another on the same pitch is surely 
not excluded under the second head, for a rhythmic divi- 
sion is heard then as truly as when the pitch changes. 
And the mere difference of musical instrument, as 
between lyre or flute and voice, no more called for a 
separate clause than the difference between lyre and 
flute under the second case. In fact, a Greek could 
hardly fail— unless especially warned, as he is not here 
—to include sung syllables under $@éyyor, which was 
applied primarily to language. This would strongly 
incline him to understand ovAda$7 of the spoken syl- 
lable primarily. And finally, this figurative use of the 
term rest for the period of duration of any syllable, 
spoken or sung, is made perfectly intelligible by the 
analogy with the two preceding cases, of bodily move- 
ment and of musical notes, and by the contrast with the 
peraBaors or transition. That passage from one syllable 
to the next, naturally enough called «ivnovs from analogy 
with the other two pu@utfcueva, fully justifies the term 
npewta for the time of the syllable itself. Aristoxenos 
is aiming here, as often elsewhere, to bring out the 
essential identity of rhythm, and the elose likeness 
between the manifestations of it, in all three arts, 
dance, music, poetry. Our better acquaintance with 
the physics of sound and articulation may make the 
transfer of terms appear more-strained than it appeared 
to him; but we must avoid judging his phraseology, 
when our object is to understand it, by a criterion 
created by knowledge that he could not have. 

In all three arts, then, Aristoxenos considers the con- 
crete rhythm as made up of the periods of npeuia plus 
the periods of «évnovs or transition from one ypeula to 
another. Both rest and motion, in this context, are 
periods of time, only differently occupied. But the 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 119 


periods of rest are alone regarded by the sense as con- 
stituting the times of the rhythm; the transitions are 
rapid and brief, the rhythmic sense does not measure 
their time independently, but takes them merely as 
minute periods of separation between the npeuéar which 
_it does measure, and which would not be distinguishable 
without the transitions. This accords perfectly with the 
facts, and is accurate enough for a general statement, 
such as Aristoxenos intended. Yet if we would make 
the description more minutely accurate, it could be 
improved by one slight modification. 

This appears most plainly in the dance, where the 
terms ‘rest’ and ‘motion’ are not figurative but literal. 
Certainly in the dance as we know it, and without doubt 
generally, the periods of strict rest are scarcely present 
at all. The body as a whole, or in some prominent part, 
is almost constantly in motion; a part only—as one 
foot and then the other, or the arms or head and so on 
—§in regular alternation or sequence comes to a brief 
rest, while other parts move. Take walking as the 
simplest example. The body as a whole is moving 
forward all the time; but the left foot, say, is brought 
to rest on the ground, and remains at rest—or part of 
the sole does— until the right is firmly planted; then 
the left is raised and moved forward, with very complex 
movement of the leg, and brought again to rest. This 
goes on with both feet alternately, one moving while 
the other rests; from the sole up the motion is constant, 
though regularly varied ; for each foot looked at by itself 
the period of rest and that of transition are almost equal. 
How does the conception of Aristoxenos apply? Evi- 
dently in this way. The coming to rest of one foot is 
noted by the rhythmic sense as the beginning of a rhyth- 
mic time, which is felt to continue until the coming to 


120 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


rest of the other foot marks the beginning of a new 
time; and for each foot separately a rhythmic time is 
felt to continue from the beginning of one contact with 
the ground until the beginning of the next contact. 
Those time-intervals are noted and measured against 
each other. But the period of transition for each foot 
is not independently noted and measured in that way; 
if felt at all as part of the rhythm, it is felt in a subor- 
dinate relation, and with no reference to its precise com- 
parative duration. We come around to the same point 
that was reached by analysis of the play accompanying 
the jingle “Bean Porridge Hot.” The times noted by 
the rhythmic sense extend from the beginning of one 
time to the beginning of the next or the corresponding 
time; what marks those beginnings marks the times; 
the transitions merely occupy a larger or smaller por- 
tion, scarcely or not at all noted as regards duration, of 
the rhythmic times. 

It will be seen that this is hardly to be called a modi- 
fication of the view of Aristoxenos; it only carries his 
description into minuter detail. His remark is accurate 
and touches the heart of the matter, when he says: “ No 
one of these (oyfpua, POdyyos, cvAXaBy) can we perceive 
— (i. e., detect its beginning or recognize it as a distinct 
entity) without a coming to rest” after a transition. 
That applies literally to the dance. And the term jpepula 
once accepted for the musical note and the syllable, 
together with «ivynows for the transition from one note 
or syllable to the next, his statement of the brevity of 
the motion as compared with the period of rest requires 
no modification or explanation in regard to music and 
poetry. 

We turn now to the difference in movement as between 
the speaking and the singing voice. At the very out- 


RHYTHM IN GREEK | 121 


set the fact must be obvious that movement or motion 
in this connection is something very unlike the motion 
we have just been considering. Both are called xivnots 
by Aristoxenos, because language is limited; but the 
context should leave no room for ambiguity. 

With most of Westphal’s interpretation of the passage 
no fault is to be found. Aristoxenos proposes (Harm. 
p- 8 Mb.) to examine ris kata Tdrov Kivyncews Tas Suado- 
pas, or the different ways in which the voice moves cata 
torov. Toros is here, by metaphor, the range of pitch 
in the musical scale; it is the movement of the voice 
up and down that scale that is under examination; the 
aim is to differentiate the speech-tune from song proper. 
These are two kinds of tune, two kinds of movement 
up and down the scale. The speaking voice in general 
glides, as we say, from one pitch to another, without 
pausing on one pitch long enough to make a steady 
musical note, maintained at the same rate of vibration 
for an appreciable time. In singing, however, the voice 
instead of gliding moves up and down the scale by 
musical intervals; it stops an appreciable time on one 
note, passes as quickly as possible from that pitch to 
another, and stops there in like manner; andso on. The 
former mode of movement up and down the scale Aris- 
toxenos calls ovveyys (continuous or uninterrupted) 
civnots, the latter he calls dsactrnmatixy nivnow, move- 
ment by intervals, or discrete movement. The principal 
paragraph is this: 

Kara pév obv thy ovveyh térov Twa SieEvevar halveras 
) pov? TH aicOnoe ovTws ws av pndapod iorapévn) pnd 
em’ avTav TOY TepdTaV KaTd ye THY THS aicOicews pavr- 
taclav, adda hepouevn cuveyas péypr coms, cata be 

1 No # is to be inserted as in Westphal’s text; ws dy suggests an 
optative from dief:évar, not requiring to be expressed. 


122 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Thy érépav nv ovowdlopuev Siacrnpatinny évavrlos halverat 
kiveioOat* SiaBatvovoa yap tornow abthy éml mas td- 
gews eita Tad ed Erépas, Kal TODTO TroLodca GUVEYas — 
Aéyo O€ cuveyds KaTa TOV ypdvov — drrepBaivovaa pév 
TOvS Tepleyomevous Ud THY TadoEewY TdTroUsS toTtapévn 
er avTav TaV Tdcewv Kal POeyyouevn TavTas pdvov avTas, 
MeA@deiy AdyeTat Kal KiveicOat Siactnmatikhy Kivnow. 

“In the one, namely continuous movement, the voice 
appears to our senses to traverse a certain space as if not 
stopping! anywhere, not even at the upper and lower 
limits of the range, at least as the sense conceives it, but 
borne on continuously until it becomes silent. But in 
the other, which we name discrete movement, the voice 
appears to move in a very different manner. Passing 
over an interval it stops on one pitch, then again ona 
second; and doing this continuously —I mean continu- 
ously in time — skipping the intervals bounded by the 
notes but stopping on the notes themselves and sounding 
these only, it is said to sing a melody and to move by 
discrete movement.” 

These words are perfectly clear. The parenthesis 
Adyo Sé cuveyds Kata Tov xpdvov is thrown in because he 
has used cuveyds in two senses. With depouevn the 
word ovveyas is used cata tézov, of the range of pitch, 
and means by glides, or without stopping on any inter- 
vening pitch, as the violin sounds when, as the bow is 
drawn, the finger slides, irregularly but without stopping 
anywhere, up and down the string. But with todro 
mototoa the word cuveyds is used Kata xpdvor, and 
means unceasingly, or without change; while tovro 
moloboa means skipping intervals and stopping only on 
certain notes. The singing voice does that unceasingly. 
If in place of the second cvveyas Aristoxenos had said 


1 See note on preceding page. 


> 


SS a ee ee ee” ee ee 


° - 


ie el 
a! te 


ee eS 


Es. 


ty 


es tekehbeen’ Jagh 


RHYTHM IN GREEK 128 


del or Tavra Tov xpdvov péxpt otwmns and omitted the 
parenthesis, the modern reader would not have misun- 
derstood ; but cuveyds is the usual word in this precise 
sense, and he thought his parenthesis removed all diffi- 
culty. To make the matter still plainer he goes on to 
repeat the explanation in slightly varied terms, which 
Westphal translates accurately, in harmony with the 
version above. 

Now this passage from the Harmonica has no connec- 
tion with the above Psellos fragment. One has to do 
with music alone, in the narrow sense of wéXos, the other 
with rhythm alone. Kivyovs in one refers to movement 
up and down the scale, cata térov, with no regard to 
time; in the other «nos denotes the transition (erd- 
Baots) from position to position, note to note, syllable 
to syllable, which takes place xara ypdvov, with no 
reference to té7ros. But Westphal unfortunately allowed 
himself to get befogged by the combination of four cir- 
cumstances: —that «ivéw plays an important part in 
both passages, that cvveya@s also is important in both 
passages in close connection with xivéw, that cvveyas is 
employed in two senses, and especially, farther, that the 
npewtat of the passage on rhythm are in one pd wi fopevor, 
péXos, usually identical with the forac@a: ér’ adrav trav 
trdcewv Kal POéyyec8at Tavras wdvov. But even in pédos 
the rhythmical jpeuéa was not always identical with the 
continuance on the same pitch, for two or more success- 
ive notes might be perfectly distinct with no change of 
pitch between them; and it by no means follows that the 
npewiae in the third puOufouevor, syllables, are also 
musical notes. That is Westphal’s mistaken inference, 
which he is led into by that innocent parenthesis, A¢yw 
dé cuveyas Kata Tov ypdvov, which has no hearing on it, 
but is fully accounted for otherwise, as above. It is 


124 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


that, parenthesis which leads him to insist: “ Auf der 
einen Seite gesungene Silben, auf der anderen Seite 
gesprochene Silben! In beiden Fallen sind es Silben 
und ihre Zeitdauer, um die es sich handelt.” On the 
contrary, in the one passage it is exclusively the changes 
of pitch of syllables, not their Zeitdauer, which is in 
question; change of pitch only is meant by «ivnots there. 
The Psellos passage alone deals with time, and in all 
three rhythmic mediums alike. In the latter the pera- 
Bacts, also called xivnats, is said to be not determinable 
as regards duration, while the #peuéa is determinable. 
But the «ivnors in these cases does not refer to change of 
pitch at all; it coincides with change of pitch, even in 
singing, in only a part of the cases. When two success- 
ive syllables are sung to different notes, then change of 
pitch and the rhythmic weradBacrs from syllable to sylla- 
ble coincide in time, as do the musical note and the 
rhythmic npeuia. But suppose two successive syllables 
are sung on the same note. No change of pitch occurs. 
There is no «évnovs in the sense of the Harmonica pas- 
sage. But the xivnots in the sense of rhythmic pera Ra- 
ots is no less distinct than if a change of pitch had 
occurred ; and the perdBaoris now is identical with that 
from syllable to syllable in speaking. In spoken sylla- 
bles, on the other hand, as Aristoxenos here describes 
them, «ivnots in the sense of change of pitch occupies 
the time wholly,'so that if the two «woes were the 
same, there would be no jpeuiar whatever to make even 
the ghost of arhythm; but «/vnovs in the sense of rhyth- 
mic petdBaors is brief, is identical with the peraBacis 
between successive syllables sung on the same pitch, and 
rhythm may be perfect. 

In the above I have but followed Weil, whose refuta- 
tion of Westphal the latter quotes (Rhythmik, p. 9 f.), 





RHYTHM IN GREEK 125 


but only to defend his own view; and in general Weil’s 
understanding of the matter seems to have been adopted 
by but few. My exposition has gone farther into detail 
in the hope—perhaps vain—of clearing up the con- 
fusion for some who would otherwise, without close 
examination, accept the view upheld by the great au- 
thority of Westphal and Gleditsch. 

With this support removed, the doctrine of a sharp 
separation between the rhythm of song and that of 
spoken verse falls to the ground. We do indeed find, 
in the passages quoted in Chapter II on ‘rhythmi’ and 
‘metra,’ evidence that the metrici made a separate class 
of the more elaborate lyric meters, as over against a 
class containing both the simpler lyric and all recitative 
verse. But that is not the same as a division between 
gesagter and gesungener Vers. Such a division as the 
metrici made is rather of itself evidence that the differ- 
ences were merely of degree, not of kind, and were slight 
and gradual, in passing from spoken verse of the simplest 
sort to the most elaborate melic. The metrici drew the 
line at the point where the departure from their rule of 
two to one for long and short became too wide for their 
method to explain. And as between prose and recitative 
verse I do not know that any one has attempted seriously 
to maintain the existence of any distinction but one of 
degree. 

The remarks of Dionysios Hal., De Comp. Verb., 17 
and 20, we shall examine in another connection. But 
some sentences from 11 of the same work belong here. 
Dionysios has just said that an ordinary crowd in the 
theater expressed their displeasure at once, if a musician, 
however famous, made a trifling mistake, though perhaps 
no one of those offended could himself do correctly what 
he blamed the player for not doing. This, Dionysios 


426 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


rightly says, indicates that we have a natural aptitude 
for music. Few have the technical knowledge required 
for artistic performance, but the faculty of passive appre- 
ciation is nature’s gilt to all. He then adds: 

To d€ airé Kal éri Tov puOnav yivduevov ebeacdunr, 
dua wavtas ayavaxtobvras Kal dvcapectoupéevous, bre Tis 
9 Kpodow 9 Kivnow n poviy év aovppérpols ToticatTo 
xXpdvols, Kab Tos puOpors apaviceev. . . . ovolKn yap 
TIS WY Kal TOV TONTLKOY AdyoOV éeTLoTHUN, TO TOTO 
Suaddarrovea ths év @dais Kal dpydvo.s, ody) TO roid. 
Kal yap év ratty Kal pédos éyouow ai A€Ecis Kal pO wor 
Kal petaBorny Kal mpérov. wate Kal érl tavTns % aKo? 
TépmreTat pev Tols pércow, aycTat Sé Tols puOpois, doma- 
Serar O€ Tas petaBorads, woel dé él wavrwv 76 oiKeiov* 
9 O¢ Stadrary? KaTa TO MAAXOV Kal HTTOV, 

“In the case of rhythms too I have seen the same 
thing happen,—a whole crowd together showing dis- 
pleasure and indignation when one rendered a passage, 
either of instrumental music or dance or vocal utterance, | 
in unsymmetrical or improperly proportioned times, and 
so destroyed the rhythms.” If Dionysios stopped here 
one might suppose dwvyv to mean singing merely. 
But in fact, after insisting that variety and appropriateness 
are no less important than tune and rhythm, as one may 
see in vocal and instrumental music and in dancing, he 
proceeds: ‘“ And my comparison is not alien to the subject, 
for oratory was also a sort of music, differing from that 
of songs and instruments in degree, not in kind. For in 
oratory too the words have tune, rhythm, modulation, 
and appropriateness. So that in this too the ear is 
pleased by the melody, is moved by the rhythms, wel- 
comes the changes, and everywhere desires appropri- 
ateness; the difference is in the more and less.” 

It is plain’ that to Dionysios the rhythms of prose 





RHYTHM IN GREEK 127 


were like those of music; they lay in the ctpyerpor 
xpdvot of successive syllables; a speaker might destroy 
the rhythms by giving to the times of the syllables 
wrong ratios, at which a large mixed audience would 
take offence. He then goes on, in a passage akin to the 
one cited from Aristoxenos, to describe the tune of 
speech, consisting of the prose accents; these disappear 
in singing, being replaced by the composer’s melody, as 
he illustrates from a chorus of the Orestes. Later (p. 
136 Schaefer) he calls a pleasing speech-tune, not of the 
singing but of the speaking voice, edmeres but not 
éueres; in like manner of rhythm, well ordered prose is 
evpuO wos but not éppuOuos; euperrjs and éppuvduos belong 
respectively only to music and verse. He then proposes 
to show how prose, by the very arrangement of words, 
may be made pleasing, not only in the speech-tune, in the 
variety of changes, and in appropriateness to the subject, 
but also cata tas cuppetplas tov fpvOudv. Later in 
chapter 25 (p. 384 Schaefer), he explains excellently 
the difference between evpvOuos and éppuOuos, thus: 

‘H peév 6uova treptiapBavovca pétpa, Kal TeTaypévous 
cdfovca puduors, Kata otlyov 7 Trepiodov n otpodiy did 
TOV avTaV oXNLaAT@V Trepawwomevn, KaTrELTA TdadLY TOTS 
avtois puOpuois Kal wérpols él trav cfs otlywv 7 Tepid- 
Sov 7 otpopav ypapevn, Kal TodTO péxpt TOAXOD TroLodca, 
EppuOuds éort kal Eupetpos, kal dvdpata Keitat TH ToLavry 
reEcr pérpov kal péros* 4 S€ wemrAavapéva pérpa Kal 
araxtous puOpods éurreptAapBavovea, kal pyr’ axonrovdiav 
éudaivovoa avTav pynte ouolvylay pyr’ avtictpodiy, ev- 
pvO mos wév eoriv, érreidi) Svatrerroixirtal Tiot puO pois * ovK 
EppuO wos Se, érrevdy ovyt Trois avtois ovbé Kata Td adrd, 
TovavTny eivat dn nut wacav réEw evpetpov, Aris éudai- 
vel TO TroinTiKoV Kal pediKdv' 7 SH Kal Tov Anyuoabévn 
Kexpnodal pnt. 


128 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Accordingly his whole metrical section, describing 
and naming the feet, is as suitable to a handbook of 
metric as to a treatise on rhetoric. All the detailed 
discussions of prose rhythm, from Aristotle and earlier 
to Quintilian, assume the same thing without any per- 
ception on the part of their authors that a specific state- 
ment of it was needed. 

On every side, in fact, in Greek as in English, lan- 
guage exhibits this unbroken gradation from the most 
careless to the most perfect artistic form. On the side 
of tone-quality and tune we may readily observe the 
progression. As the finer and more elevated emotions gain 
prominence, the tones of the voice — unless indeed the 
nature or violence of the emotion weakens the muscular 
control over the organs of speech — take on more and more 
of the pure quality that we call musical; appropriate 
passages of prose, still more of poetry, one may hear 
pronounced on the stage, and particularly by the best 


actresses, in the purest musical tone. Concurrently with. 


this progression we may discern a parallel change in the 
speech-tune; where the purest tone is appropriate a 
good actress will frequently employ a form of true mel- 
ody. Glides may be more prominent than is usual in 
acknowledged singing, but the whole will approach, as 
nearly as possible without attracting too marked notice, 
the character of a melody that could be written in our 
musical scales. Darwin has noted thisin his Expression 
of the Emotions in Man and Animals (chap. IV): 
“ From this fact [that an ape, one of the gibbons, produces 
an exact octave of musical sounds],” he says, “and from 
the analogy of other animals, I have been led to infer 
that the progenitors of man probably uttered musical 
tones [to express emotion] before they acquired the 
power of articulate speech; and consequently when the 


b4 Fi + rc . ” he rs = ¥ as - = * —_ - 
gg ee gee ee ee a 





RHYTHM IN GREEK 129 


voice is used under any strong emotion it tends to assume, 
through the principle of association, a musical character.” 
Aristoxenos observed the same thing. In the discussion 
of the speaking and singing voice, just after the passage 
before considered, he says (p. 9 Mb.): “In talking we 
avoid holding the voice steady on any pitch, unless 
because of emotion we are forced to that kind of move- 
ment.” This is a recognition of the fact that emotions 
cause the speaking voice to become more like the singing 
voice; greater steadiness of pitch and greater evenness 
in glides are accompanied by more musical quality of 
tone. In accordance with this remark of Aristoxenos we . 
find that Aristides Q. (p. 7 Mb.) places beside the con- 
tinuous and discrete movement of the voice a third kind, 
péon, 4 TAs TOV Toinudtav avayveces Totovpefa. This 
is a valuable observation. It adds the fact, which 
accords fully with what we see in modern languages, 
that Greek poetry was read in a style that stood between 
that of conversation and that of singing, as regards tone- 
quality and pitch changes. The passage from the more 
commonplace and diffuse in thought or verbal expression 
to the more elevated, condensed, rich in ideas and emo- 
tion, was expressed also in the changed character of the 
vocal sounds, in the increase of the musical element. 
Along with this went,as we saw in Chapter II, in- 
creased precision in the observance of rhythm. A high 
degree of this was called wAdcpa, which doubtless con- 
noted the closer approximation to music in the other 
particulars besides rhythm. In all these aspects song 
stood at the upper end of the scale, which ran down, as 
with us, to the simplest prosaic utterance. In the latter, 
it is true, the ancients appear to have been hardly con- 
scious of any approximation to rhythm. Their attention 


was attracted only by the conscious endeavor to produce 
9 


130 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


rhythm through selection and arrangement of words; 
their treatises were meant first of all for practical use in 
directing such endeavor, or at least in enabling one to 
understand the procedure and the product of such 
endeavor. There they recognized, at least the more 
acute minds recognized, the essential nature of the sub- 
conscious rhythmizing process dealing with material 
more or less plastic. That they failed to recognize the 
universality of the tendency to rhythmize, even where 
that conscious endeavor was not present, and that they 
sometimes conceived of the syllabic quantities in prose 
as rigidly fixed (as in the first sentence of the passage 
from Dionysios Hal. quoted above on p. 51) need not 
surprise us nor prevent our acceptance of a conclusion 
based on such an accumulation of evidence. 


tT eae 
_~ oa Se aan 


le 


a ee a 


a? 


ri. 


<= ~~ 
Oe we en 


tt 
—_— 


J . 
Oe te ee 
SS fe Om ees 


« 
a la 


tt a ae rele) 


aS . 
QE —eEeEee 


ia ee —_-— 


Vv 
FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 


ARISTOXENOS defines the foot by describing its func- 
tion, in the words: 6 onmawvdpueba Tov pO mov Kal yvapi- 
pov tovodpev TH aicOnoe Trovs éotw els 7 mrelovs Evos. 
This follows, in our fragment of the Elements of 
Rhythm, a series of preliminary definitions. After reit- 
erating with emphasis that rhythm deals with time, and 
arises only when there is an arrangement-of times, he 
defines first the rparos Trav xpdvwr, the Sicnmos ypdvos, 
tpicnuos, etc., then simple and compound time in vari- 
ous relations, which involves a partial elucidation of 
puOuorrotia. It is thus made as distinct as possible that 
the foot, which is treated next, is a matter of times, and 
only secondarily of syllables, notes, or steps, as these 
embody times. 

The essence of the foot is that by it the rhythm is 
marked and made cognizable and intelligible. The 
active and middle voices of the two verbs are not acci- 
dental, but are designed to bring out the two aspects of 
the action. Xnuawdeuea points within, to the mental 
process of apprehending, of noting to one’s self as articu- 
lated in some definite way, the series of times concerned ; 
yveptwov totodpev looks outward, to the action of 
making the articulation of the series perceptible to 
others. Both of these at once we do through the foot. 
Neither verb refers to beating time; that is merely an 
external aid to one or the other side of the process. 
The process is complete within the meaning of the defi- 


132 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


nition whenever one simply renders the series of times, 
being conscious of its rhythmical character, so that 
another may also become conscious of it. 

Evidently the foot is conceived as a sort of common 
measure of the series. The earlier name pétpov embodies 
the same idea. When a rhythmical series is rendered, 
the times are perceived to be grouped, in larger and 
smaller divisions; that is what is meant by a raés 
xpovev, Among these various divisions, and running 
through all with more or less distinctness, a group of 
times detaches itself to our sense, because it is often 
repeated, either in the same form or with so slight varia- 
tion that we still feel the substantial identity. The group 
so repeated, with not too great variations, makes up the 
whole series and gives it a specific character, which 
varies with the character of the smaller group. To 
Aristoxenos any group of times recognized by our senses 


as performing that function isa foot. The smallest such | 


group is a simple foot; if a group which performs that 
function is perceived to be itself made up of smaller 
groups which also perform the same function, then the 
larger of the two is a compound foot. The simple foot is 
the smallest unit of measurement —not group of times, 
but sufficiently repeated and distinctly characterizing 
group of times to constitute a unit of measurement — 
after the wpa@ros ypevos. 

The qualifying phrase “one or more than one” is 
added to the definition to cover the class known as 


dochmiac or “slantwise” rhythms.! Different kinds of 


1 Perhaps also the “logacdic” or mixed meters. The difference 
between Westphal’s conception and mine, with regard to the appli- 
cation of the phrase to that class of rhythms, will become clear if one 
cares to compare his dristoxenos I, pp. 20-23, with my discussion of 
those meters in the next chapter. 





4 

. 
v 
4 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 133 


simple feet were so combined in these that one alone was 
not sufficient to characterize the whole; each was dis- 
tinctly felt, the frequent shifting from one to another 
within the kolon was an essential part of the effect. We 
have parallels in modern music. For example, there are 
some Hungarian popular songs in which the time shifts 
frequently, from measure to measure, so that a double 
indication of it has to be used, as # #, or § 3. The char- 
acteristic movement of one may be seen in the phrase: 


re M er =Day 
1 6) 6) eT —t j ay 7 
ee) 4 t ras Ge + 











e a 


Rhythmically the whole song! consists of this kolon 
repeated six times with varying tune and harmony. A 
notable example of such combination is thus described 
by William Mason in his Memories of a Musical 
Life. “Raff had composed a sonata for violin and 
pianoforte in which there were ever-varying changes in 
measure and rhythm; measures of §, f, }, alternated with 
common and triple time, and seemed to mix together 
promiscuously and without regard to order. Notwith- 
standing this apparent disorder, there was an under- 
current, so to speak, of the ordinary $ or ¢ time, and to 
the player who could penetrate the rhythmic mask the 
difficulty of performance quickly vanished.” Mr. Mason 
goes on to tell how one of the musicians who had prac- 
tised the sonata to play it before Liszt broke down from 
nervousness over the confusing changes, whereupon 
Liszt “played it through at sight in rapid tempo and 
without the slightest hesitation.” Whether among 























1 Collection Litolff, No. 1281, Magyar Dal-Album, 214; others in 
the same volume are 226, 255, 294, 310, 891. 
2 Century Magazine, Sept. 1900, vol. lx, p. 775. 


134 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


modern popular dances any such shifting rhythms exist 
I do not know; I should rather expect one might be 
found. There is probably no parallel in English verse ; 
though the verse that originates and gains acceptance 
among the less cultivated, who are less bound by theory 
and follow the ear more boldly, certainly exhibits far 
more variety of rhythm than greater poets dare employ, 
and such verse has received no serious examination on 
this side. There can be no doubt that such rhythms 
were familiar to the Greeks, and therefore without the 
words els 7) mXelous évds the defining sentence would not 
quite cover the ground. In our farther discussion, how- 
ever, the dochmiac rhythms will for the present be left 
out of view. 

The sentence that defines the foot is followed by the 
words: 

Tav 8é rodav of wéev ex S00 ypdvay cbyxewrat Tod TE 
dvw kal Tod Kato, ot Sé éx TpLav, Sto pév TaV dvw évos SE 
Tov Katw, n é& évos pev ToD dvw Svo dé THY KaTw [oi be 
éx tertdpwv, Svo perv TaV dvw dvo Oé TaV KadTw], STL per 
ouv é& évos ypdvou trovs ov« av ein havepdr, érredjrep év 
onpelov ov trove? Siaipeowy ypdvov* davev yap Sdiaipécews 
ypovou rovs ov SoKel yiverOat. 

In English: “Some feet consist of two times, the 
up-time and the down-time; others of three, the up-times 
being two and the down-time one, or again of one up- 
time and two down-times; others of four, two up-times 
and two down. It is plain that a single time would not 
constitute a foot, because one onpetoyv does not effect a 
division of time; for without division of time there does 
not seem to be a foot.” 

As was remarked in an earlier chapter (p. 87) 
xpdvos cannot here mean the mparos ypdvos. For a 
little later (p. 802 Mor.) Aristoxenos says: Tar 6 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 135 


moder edaxyiotot mev eiowv of év Tplonum meyer. Td yap 
Slanmwov péyeOos travTen@s av Exot wuKvay tiv trodiKHy 
onuactav. It is true that Aristoxenos is here deal- 
ing only with feet that are employed in continuous 
rhythmopoiia, and he may have accepted the dionos 
movs as an isolated, occurrence, as at the beginning of 
the line in certain Aiolic meters. On the other hand, 
the context in the passage primarily under discussion 
(288 Mor.) shows that there too Aristoxenos is con- 
sidering only the feet of continuous rhythmopoiia, not 
isolated and exceptional occurrences. He is still early 
in his treatise, at least early in that part of it which 
describes the rhythms of art, and his definitions and 
other statements are general, intended to set forth first 
the broad outlines, not the exceptional peculiarities. 
The foot, for example, is that 6 onuaidpeBa Tov puOuov 
Kal yvaptmov Trotovpev TH aicOyjce. This has no appli- 
cation except to the feet of continuous rhythmopoiia ; 
an isolated exceptional foot cannot be brought under it, 
and is called by the same name only by courtesy, — that 
is to say, by analogy, because language is limited. It is 
the feet to which that definition applies of which Aris- 
toxenos immediately goes on to say that “some consist 
of two times,” and so on. Besides it is not improbable, 
—it seems to me probable —that what the metrici 
called, in those Aiolic meters, a foot of two short syllables 
was really, to Aristoxenos, not strictly two-timed but 
irrational. It was restricted to the first place in rhythms 
of triple and quadruple time; the rhythmizing process 
would most naturally make it approximate in actual 
time to its neighbors. But however that may be —and 
we have no direct evidence for this explanation —on 
the former ground alone I consider it certain that Aris- 
toxenos did not regard two strictly short syllables alone 


136 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


as making a foot within the meaning of this passage, 
and that the feet of “two times, the up-time and the 
down-time,” were more than d/cnuos. The times here 
meant are the ypdvot mrodixol, the times which constitute 
the normal feet, excluding the modifications which 
puOworrotta may introduce. ‘The expression is purposely 
kept general, to apply to médes cvvGerot as well as to 
simple feet; but we shall avoid some risk of confusion 
if we look first at the application to simple feet only, 
and only in one medium, language. So restricted and so 
embodied ypdvos mroduxds becomes identical with syllable. 
The same use of ypdvos without the defining qodi«ds 
appears in the Oxyrhynchos papyrus attributed to 
Aristoxenos. Td movdypovoy oixeidtepov tod tpoyaixod 
n tov iduBov (col. iii.) must mean “the foot-space 
occupied by a single syllable (i. e., one ypdvos modixds 
only) is more appropriate to trochaic rhythm than to the 
iambus.” To pwovdxpovor is here a tplonpos syllable, else- 
where it might be a rerpdonuos ; it is the largest ypdvos - 
mooixds —that is, the space of a whole foot, but un- 
divided, consisting of one “ time ” only, because filled by 
a single syllable. Again in col. v, the tetpdypovos 
Kpntixcn rA€Es is not a TeTpdonuos speech-form, contain- 
ing four mparot xpdvor, but a four-syllabled speech- 
form, —v—v, containing four zrodixol ypdvo, each 
represented by a syllable. Earlier in col. v the clause, 
Sorte THv pev tpatnv EvrraBHY év TH peylot@ ypdvp 
keioOat, THY 5é Sevtépav év TH Eraylote, THY 5é Tplrnv év 
T@ péow, employs ypdovos for modixds ypdvos, but in such 
a manner that the technical and the ordinary sense run 
together. So also in col. ii, 6 Sderudos 6 Kat’ tawBov 
avaTant TaV Tepleyovcav Ev\rAaBav TeBecdyv eis Tods 
Xpovous 7 as év TO KpnTiK@ érlVevro, “the iambic dactyl 
(or dactyl with iambic thesis and arsis, vy — v —), in which 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 137 


the syllables comprising it (or constituent syllables) are 
set to the time-intervals in the reverse order as com- 
pared with the cretic (_v—v).” 

Adhering now to our restricted application, the mean- 
ing of the passage under consideration is this. There 
can be no foot without at least two syllables, for one 
syllable does not divide time and produce a ratio of 
times. A povdypovov among trochees is not strictly a 
foot, though its equivalent in time. Some feet consist 
of two syllables, one for the up-beat and one for the 
down-beat, (iambus, trochee, or spondee). Others con- 
sist of three syllables, two for the up-beat and one for 
the down (anapest and dactyl); or again one for the 
up-beat and two for the down (~—v and —v~-); 
others consist of four syllables, two for the up-beat and 
two for the down (paion —v v v, or ionic vy vy — — and 
states fh SP) 

The foregoing appears to me the most probable solu- 
tion of the long-standing and much-discussed problem, 
precisely what times Aristoxenos meant to include 
under the ypévor wodixol. In its favor, besides the sim- 


plicity of interpretation for this locus classicus, are 


three considerations, two positive and one negative. 
First, the feet thus assumed as the normal ones, by 
which the rhythmical character of the series was deter- 
mined and the beating of time was regulated, are 
adequate, filling all requirements. In them without 
exception each long syllable has twice the length of a 
short. All three yévy, namely icov, Surddotov, %prddLor, 
are provided for fully, in every variety. All the other 
common feet are but slight variations of these, pro- 
duced by resolution of a long syllable into two short, 
or union of two short into one long, or both together. 
These changes produce the simplest of the ypdvor ris 


188 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


puOuorrorias idiot. Trisemes and tetrasemes are also 
xpovot Trodixol, provided they coincide with arsis, thesis, 
or whole foot; otherwise they are among the ypovor 
TAS pvOporrovias idiot, farther varieties of which we need 
not dwell on at present. 

Secondly, the term onefov mrodiccv and most of the 
passages employing it are rendered more intelligible, at 
least as regards the simple feet. Besides the clause 
év onpetov ov trovet Staipecty ypdvov, where onpeiov as 
applied to language is pretty clearly identical with syl- 
lable, the most significant passages are these. 

(1) Tlodixds: pev ody éott ypdvos 6 Katéywov onpeiov 
moodikod péyeOos, olov apcews 4 Bdcews 7 SAov odds. 
(Frag. 8 ap. Psell.) That is, in magnitude ypdvos trodixds 
and onpeiov troduced are equal. 

(2) Nonréov d€ yopis tad Te THY TOD Todds SivapLY 
gurdcoovta onpeia kal Tas bd THS pvOpotrotlas yivopevas 
dtatpécets* Kal mpocOerdov 5é Sri Ta pév Exdotov Todos 
onueia Svapéver ica bvTa Kal TO aplOu@ Kal TO peyeOet, 
ai & urd THs pvOporroias yivdopevar Statpécers mroAAHV 
AapBavovor troirlav. (Aristox., p. 292 Mor.) That is, 
the onpeta rodixa determine or indicate the precise char- 
acter of the foot, and continue unchanged, preserving 
that individual character of the foot under all the 
changes of the rhythmopoiia. The arrangement of times 
constituting the characteristic and fundamental foot of 
any rhythm remains and is felt as the substratum run- 
ning through all the variations. In a similar way in 
modern music, say in common time, both conductor and 
players are conscious of the regular four beats, equiva- 
lent to quarter notes, of each measure, running along 
with and as it were underneath the endless variety 
of rhythm in the actual notes. 

In poetry, and in reference to the simple foot, exclud- 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 139 


ing for the present the Aristoxenean ovv@erou, the doc- 
trine is perfectly clear, if we take the smaller oneia as 
equal to the syllables of the fundamental foot. In 
iambus, trochee, and spondee these lesser onmeia equal 
the arsis and thesis, and the largest onuetov equals the 
whole foot, in conformity with passage (1). But the 
word ofov in (1) suggests, if it does not prove, that 
arsis, thesis, and whole foot do not exhaust the list of 
onweia trodtxad. It leads us to expect in some feet other 
onmeta that do not coincide with arsis, thesis, or whole 
foot. And in fact the dactyl, anapest, ionic, or cretic 
is not sufficiently characterized by indicating merely the 
magnitudes of the arsis, thesis, and whole foot. For 
example, that alone would make no distinction whatever 
between the dactyl or anapzst and the spondee; all 
three would have the same onyeta, which in that case 
could hardly be spoken of as rv Tod moddés Sivamy 
gvAdcoovra. Where arsis or thesis of the fundamental 
foot is divided between two syllables, it would seem 
that each syllable must embody a ypévos modixds and 
be represented by a onpetov modixdy, if the onpeta are 
really to indicate and preserve amid all variation the 
individuality of the foot. To this add: 

(8) AvfecOar é daiverar 7d wev lap Brxdv yévos péypr 
ToD OxTwKaldexacnpov peyéBous, date yiverOat Tov péyto- 
tov mdéda éEamrAdo.ov ToD éXayiloTov, Td Sé SaxtudKdy 
wéxpt Tod éxxadexacnpov, TO Sé tarwuKov péypt Tod Tev- 
TexaltelKocaonpov. avéerar Sé él mredvev Td Te iapBu- 
Kov yévos Kal TO matwviKdy ToD SaxTuMKOd, Ste [ev TO 
éhaylar@ modt] wreloot onpelors Exdtepov a’tav yphrat. 
ot mev yap TY Today dv0 pdvols TrepiKact onpelo”s Ypho- 
Oat, dpoe Kat Race, ot Sé tpiclv dpoe Kal Surg Bacet, 
oi dé rérpact, Svo apoect wal Sto Bdceow. (Frag. 12 


ap. Psell.) 


140 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


That the last sentence is nearly related to the one 
from which our discussion of the ypdvot modixol set out 
(quoted above, p. 184) is obvious enough, and is strik- 
ingly brought out by Westphal’s parallel columns 
(Rhythmik, p. 110 f£.). As correlative terms we find in 


Aristox., p. 288 Mor. Psell. Frag. 


3 tA / tA , A 

éx S00 xpdvav otyKxetat | Svo onpelows ypjoOar 
TOD TE Gvw Kal TOU KaTw | dpoe Kal Bace 

éx TplLaVv Tpiol 

Ovo Mev TOV advo 

ere" XA na ld XN 
évos O€ TOU KaTw 7) 





> , ap X\ a BA 
€& évos pev TOD ave dpoet kal 
dvo0 O€ THY KaTM dumrn Races 
P. 290 Mor. 
ov yiverat TwrELw on- Tétpact, S00 apoect 
Mela TOV TeTTApwV kal dvo Bacect 


The equality of onpeta rodied and ypdvot rodixol is 
farther confirmed by this parallelism. The phrase év ro 
éraxylorm modi was added by Westphal, is unnecessary, © 
and as regards édkay/orw impossible, I believe; yet it is 
certainly most natural to suppose that the last sentence 
refers primarily to the list of fundamental simple feet. 
With that understanding there is no difficulty in the last 
sentence, and the causal clause before it becomes also a 
natural and rational statement. But we will first look 
at two other paragraphs that bear upon this. 

(4) Avadpdpovor Sé of pelCoves rddes THv éXaTTéver év 
TO avTa yever aywyn. Fort SE aywyh pvOuod Trav év TO 
alto Ady@ Todav Kata péyeDos Svadopd, ofov 6 tplonpos 
taBiKos 6 [onpetov] cuvéywv [ev] év dpoet cat Surddovov 
év Oécet [kal o éEdonmos iapBixds 6 onpeta Sto cuvéxav 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 141 


év dpoe kat Sutrrdotov év Oca]. tav yap TpL@v 1 S.ai- 
pects eis [8v] onpetov Kat dirddotov yiverat tev te && 
Gmolws. ovTot ovv of Trddes, peyeOer AAANAY SiadéporTes, 
yet cal Th Siatpéoce TOV TOduKaV onpelwv ot avToé Eiowy. 
(Excerpta Neap. 15, p. 415 Jan.) 

(5) Tod 88 AapBdvew tov dda Trelo Tadv S00 onpeia 
Ta peyéOn Tav Today aitiatéov. of yap éddtToOUs TaV 
modav, evmeptAnmrov TH aicOnoe TO péyeAos éxovTes, 
evovvorrTol eiot Kal dia Tov Svo onmelwv: of dé peydror 
rouvavtiov memdvOact, Svomepiknmrov yap TH aicOjoe 
TO péyeOos eyovtes, mAEdvav SéovTat onpeiwv, Srrws eis 
mreiw pwépn SiatpeOév Td Tod rov Todds péyeVos evoovorr- 
torepov yivntat. Sida Ti dé od yiverat TrElw onuEia TOV 
TeTTapwv ols 6 mods YpHTal KaTa THY avTOD Svvam voTeE- 
pov deyOnocerar. (P. 290 Mor.) 

In (4) the reading 6 onpeiov cvvéywr is practically 
certain; but the following &, and & in line 7, are no 
more needed than is wg in the phrase dpoe cal durdrp 
Bdoe in the last sentence of (3). Something like the | 
words kal o éEdonwos tapPixds x.7.r., added by Westphal, 
must have stood there, otherwise ray te €& ouolws would 
be inexplicable; but Westphal wrote dirAdovov in the 
singular because he assumed that only one onpetov could 
stand for the thesis. With d:rddova, or dv0 durddoua, 
the whole becomes consistent with itself and with the 
rest. Finally aywy7, as Jan remarks, evidently does not 
here mean tempo, as it often does, but rather length, or 
the amount of time given to the foot. Our musical 
nomenclature, borrowing tempo from Italian, conven- 
iently distinguishes concepts that are yet closely enough 
related to allow the Greek, though with some loss of 
clearness, to employ the same term for both. 

The meaning of (4) then is this. “The larger feet 
differ from the smaller of the same classin d@ywy7. The 


142 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


meaning of rhythmic a@ywy7 is variation in length be- 
tween the feet in the same class; for example, the three- 
timed iambic, which contains a oneZov in arsis and a 
double one (one twice as long) in thesis, and the six- 
timed iambic, which contains two onweza in arsis and 
two of double length in thesis. For the three [wparo: 
xpévo.| are divided into a onmetov and one of double 
length, and the six likewise (into two onmeia and two 
of double length). ‘These feet, therefore, though differ- 
ing from each other in extent (weyée here practically 
the same as aywy7), are the same in class and in the 
division of the zrodica onpeia.” By the six-timed iambic 


we are to understand primarily vy vy —~— or —~— vy, 
probably also the iambic or trochaic dipody v — v — or 
reli EF Yeas Wo 


Passage (5) fits least easily into this interpretation. 
At first sight the phrasing of the opening sentence may 
appear a trifle unnatural in reference to the fundamental 
feet. My hesitation on that score has been overcome, © 
however, by two considerations. On the one hand Aap- 
Save and airiaréov, the centers of difficulty, need not 
be pressed to mean anything more than éyew and airia. 
On the other hand, here as elsewhere the language is 
general, to apply not only to the fundamental feet but 
also to the ctv@erou dds, the long feet of sixteen, eigh- 
teen, and twenty-five times referred to in (8). In refer- 
ence to those the phraseology is wholly appropriate, and 
Aristoxenos may well have had these chiefly in mind in 
this sentence, though it applies to the fundamental feet 
as well. The difficulty, therefore, ceases to be serious 
and the whole may be rendered thus: ‘The reason for 
giving the foot more than two onpeia lies in the extent 
of the feet. The lesser feet, whose extent is easy for 
the sense to grasp, are readily comprehended in one view 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 148 


through the two oneia. But the opposite is true of 
the large feet. As their extent is difficult for the sense 
to grasp, they need more onpeva, in such wise that the 
extent of the whole foot, being divided into more parts, 
may more readily be comprehended in one view. Why 
there are never more oneta than the four which the 
foot has in virtue of its own characteristic form will be 
shown later.” The later explanation is lost. 

In the last sentence the antecedent of ofs has been 
taken to be onmeZa. So far as the grammar of this sen- 
tence goes, it might be so. But rav tetrdpwr [ onpelwv] 
would seem to be the more natural antecedent, from the 
purely grammatical standpoint. The former has been 
preferred as fitting a preconceived interpretation; the 
argument for the latter, besides the very slight one of 
grammatical probability based on order, in that it pro- 
duces harmony of meaning with the other passages that 
point to four onpeia in the ionic and paionic. The 
four oneia of the largest fundamental feet are never 
exceeded in number in the multiples of those feet, in 
the meydro mddes of eighteen and twenty-five primary 
times. 

In the light of (4) and (5) the whole of (3) is now 
clear. In English: “In extent of the foot the limit of 
the iambic class is eighteen primary times, so that the 
largest foot becomes in extent the sixfold of the small- 
est; in the dactylic class it is sixteen primary times, in 
the paionic twenty-five. The iambic class and the pai- 
onic increase to a larger number of primary times than 
the dactylic, because each of them has more onpeta 
modicd ” — that is, in the fundamental foot into which 
the compound foot is divided. The scale would be 


144 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Foot Zeta Number 
Iambus wie 2 
Trochee ms D) 
Spondee wh 3% 
Dactyl ses Sad NO 8 
Anapest WEN jew 3 
Cretic aug eg 8 
Paion oe SY 4 
Tonic as prey 4 


Obviously the argument is not quite complete with- 
out one farther assumption, which is, I believe, justifi- 
able. Not only were ionic kola extended to eighteen 
times, with and without anaklasis, but also the plain 
iambic and trochaic. The argument therefore does not 
cover the ground unless we may understand that Aris- 
tcxenos counted as fundamental feet for this purpose 
the iambic and trochaic dipody. That is possible 
enough. We are by no means fully informed as to the. 
details of his nomenclature; but he appears to have 
given to these forms, at least in some connections, the 
distinctive names Sd«tvAos cat’ lawBov and xpytixds 
respectively. Also, they were of very frequent occur- 
rence mingled with ionics and precisely equivalent to 
them, while the longer iambic and trochaic kola were 
regularly measured and named on the assumption that 
what we call the dipody was the unit. With this 
addition to the scale the figures harmonize. A further 
reason for the addition will appear shortly. 

But the causal connection (é7-) is not so plain and 
has been considered absurd. Westphal (Rhyth., pp. 
113-117) followed Baumgart in rejecting it, finding the 
only rational explanation of the limits of extent for the 

1 See Oxyrh. Pap., col. ii, and Aristid. Q., i. 17. 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 145 


compound feet in Aristid, Q., p. 85 Mb. We are there 
told simply that the dactylic class stops at the sixteen- 
timed kolon &a 7d éacOeveiv jas Tovs pwelfous Tod ToLov- 
rou yévous Siayeyvookew pvO mous; that the iambic stops 
at eighteen times, odeérs yap THs Tod TovovTov puv0 wood 
dicews avrikawBavdueOa; while the paionic extends to 
twenty-five times, wéypt yap TocovTou Tov ToLodTOY pO mov 
7d alcOnripiov catarapBavet. But is not this in perfect 
accord with the Psellos fragment, the two supplementing 
each other? Our power to grasp a rhythmical series 
as an organized whole depends on the character of its 
divisions. The simpler those are, the sooner in point of 
time, when a succession of them meets the sense, do we 
cease to organize them into a new whole and begin to 
receive them as a mere unorganized succession. The 
principle is general; it applies perfectly to the case 
before us. A unit of two foot-times or onpeia is the 
very simplest in rhythm; hence very soon, before six 
such units are heard, the mind ceases to organize them 
and group them, so as to view the series mentally all 
together (cvvopav) as one. Unless, be it added, they are 
so constituted that the mind naturally groups them by 
twos, and so forms a larger unit than the original one 
of two onpueta. That was the case for the Greek with 
the common iambic and trochaic rhythms. Each alter- 
nate simplest foot admitted an irrational syllable, a 
variation in structure that of itself made a dipodic 
grouping; and whether the irrational syllable was there 
or not, the dipodic grouping was generally made. This 
larger unit, with four onpeia, might be repeated to form 
a series of three; the mind would still organize them 
and be conscious of them as a larger whole up to eigh- 
teen primary times. That this theoretical explanation 


agrees with the practical treatment of such series no 
10 


146 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


one can doubt; our addition of the iambic and tro- 
chaic dipodies to the scale of feet and oneia is thus 
confirmed. The dactyl, however, with only three onpeia, 
could be so organized and unified only to the limit of 
four feet, sixteen primary times.! The anapest followed 
the dactyl in this, in spite of the fact that for some 
reason, perhaps merely because of the connection with 
the double step in marching, anapestic verse was 
counted and named by dipodies. Yet the anapestic 
tetrameter was a very common group, though felt to be 
divided into two members. Ionic rhythms naturally 
were subject to like conditions with others of the iambic 
class, having the same number of onpeza as the iambic 
or trochaic dipody. The paion, with four onpe?a, and 
with arsis and thesis in the peculiar ratio of two to three, 
had a more complex organization still; it could be 
extended to five feet or twenty-five times without failure 
of the unifying faculty. There is plainly a connection 
between the ratio of two to three within the foot and - 
the number of five feet. 

(6) Three other remarks of Aristides Q. must not be 
overlooked. In the first chapter of his section on rhythm 
(p. 832 Mb.) he says: “‘ The rhythm is divided in speech 
by the syllables, in music by the ratio between arsis and 
thesis, and in bodily movement tois te oyjpact Kal Tots 
TovTwy mépaciv a 6) Kal onmeta KareiTa.” His whole 
treatment of rhythm is so brief that it is difficult to say 
whether the antecedent of & is 1épacw or oxnpact Kal 
mépact, or in what precise sense mépacw is here em- 


1 How we are to explain the apparent discrepancy between this 
statement and the unquestionable occurrence of dactylic pentapodies 
I do not yet know. In such a case as atAwov atAwov eiré, 7d 8’ ed rixdrw 
a modern musician would certainly prolong the last two syllables to 
tetrasemes ; if the Greek musician did the same, he would regard the 
whole as of two kola. 





_ FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 147 


ployed. The parallel expression in Aristoxenos is dca 
pyoet TOV ypdvov . . . 4 Kivnots onpelols TE Kal TXHmaCL 
Kal el TL TOLODTOY éoTt KLVHoEwS mépos (p. 278 Mor.). Here 
_ the context indicates that onpueia, oyjmata, and rovodréy 
TL wépos Kivjcews are meant to include all varieties of 
divisions in the dance, from the smallest unit to the 
largest, by no means restricting onmeta to the smallest. 
The next section of Aristides begins: mpa@ros mév odv 
€oTl ypdvos a&Tomos Kal éhdytoros, 0s Kal onpeiov Kanel- 
tat. Aristides, then, applied the term onetov to the 
mpatos ypdvos; and he goes on to explain that this use 
of cnpeiov is analogous to that in geometry, the mparos 
xpdvos, like the ‘point,’ being awepns. odros dé 6 apepns 
povddos oiovel yopav exer’ Oewpeirar yap év wéev NéEE Trepl 
ovrAraByv, év dé wéret rep) POdyyov 7} mepl év Sidornpa, 
év 5 xivnoet c@patos mepi év oyjwa. Either here is a 
partial confusion of thought, or else what looks like that 
is merely the result of his brevity. The latter is more 
probable, and in that case the explanation would be this. 
Aristides distinctly does not say that this use of onpetov 
is borrowed from geometry, but only that it is analogous 
to the use in geometry. His phrase is xa0d Kal oi 
yewopuéerpat TO Tapa odiow apepés onpeiov Tpocnydpevaad ; 
geometers and writers on rhythm have used the same 
term for a similar reason. Nor does dmepys necessarily 
mean indivisible, or without parts in the mathematical 
sense ; the application of it in that sense to so largea 
portion of time as the mp&tos ypdvos would be very 
strange. It is merely undivided, treated as one. Our 
term for the geometer’s onmeiov is point, a word of very 
different associations. It would be rather absurd for us 
to apply this to so long a time-interval as that of a sylla- 
ble; but of course we must not without specific warrant 
connect with the onetov of the rhythmici that notion of 


148 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


minuteness which we connect with the word point in 
geometry, since point is merely our modern substitute 
for the Greek geometer’s onmeiov. And finally the 
phrases zrept POdyyov 7 mepl év Sidornwa and mepl év 
oxjpwa almost absolutely negative the restriction of on- 
#etov in rhythm to the primary time alone. If that 
restriction was intended, it is strange that we find 
neither Spayeiav with ovAdaSyv nor any corresponding 
restrictive word to show that onmeiov was applied to the 
shortest note alone or the smallest interval of the scale 
or the shortest dance-figure alone. It seems far more 
probable that Aristides applied the term to any undivided 
time-interval such as Aristoxenos called a ypévos mrodixds, 
So understood, his remarks here accord with our previous 
results; and in the sentence first quoted in this paragraph 
the antecedent of @ is probably trois oynpacr kal tois 
rovTwy mépact aS one idea, equivalent to “the various 
dance-figures with their distinctly marked limits.” One 


other remark, however, does not so accord in its present - 


form. At the end of 16 (p. 88 f. Mb.) Aristides explains 
the name tratwv didyuos for — v — by saying: ddyuios 
bev ovv elpntat olov diyuos (S00 yap xphtat onpelois). 
As it stands, the last clause fits no interpretation of o7- 
weta that I am acquainted with. If we assume one o7n- 
petov for thesis and one for arsis — and in no other sense 
does the mralwv Siayuios contain two only — then every 


foot is equally Séyusos and the name dcdyuwos is in no way | 


distinctive. The foot — v— may be called “two-limbed” 
naturally enough, but only by virtue of having two 
equal long syllables disposed symmetrically in relation 
to the central short, one or either side. Something like 
that the explanatory parenthesis must originally have 
said; but what the original wording was it is vain to 
guess. 





ae tri 





Te Se ad a a ae 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 149 


(7) Marius Vict. contributes another slender ray of 
light. Early in his section on feet he inserts the sen- 
tence (p.43 K.): Zymeiov autem veteres xpdvor, id est 
tempus, non absurde dixerunt ex eo, quod signa quae- 
dam accentuum, quae Greeci mpoo@dias vocant, syllabis ad 
declaranda temporum spatia superponuntur, unde tempora 
signa Greci dixerunt. If we take ypdévov as meaning 
xpévov trodixdv, this not only agrees with Aristoxenos 
but supplies a more probable explanation than that of 
Aristides as to how this use of onpetov arose. Marks 
indicating rhythmic times were no less truly musical 
in character than those which we know as accents, indi- 
cating pitch; the name mpoc@édia:, accentus, naturally 
enough included both. The practice of using such 
marks of time when needed (as in the Seikilos epitaph, 
Jan., p. 452) led to calling the times onueta. Our word 
‘note’ has undergone a similar transfer of meaning. 

In addition to these two positive arguments in favor 
of this understanding of Aristoxenos’s ypdvot modixol, 
there is, thirdly, a negative consideration of some value. 
That understanding of the matter, though it does not of 
itself solve the remaining half of the problem — namely, 
what were the ypevor rrodvxo/ in the compound feet ? — at 
least introduces no greater difficulty than other interpreta- 
tions. Rather it seems to me to point towards a solution. 
But sufficient evidence for a really satisfactory solution 
probably does not exist. For that and other reasons 
a more detailed examination of the question is beyond 
the scope of this chapter, the object of which is to obtain 
a clear conception of what the Greeks, and in particular 
Aristoxenos, understood to constitute the essential nature 
of the ordinary feet. That appears to me to be the basis, 
or an essential part of the basis, on which must rest our 
understanding of individual meters, which latter we must 


150 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


understand, if we would truly know the Greek poets on 
the side of their poetic form. 

The next point made by Aristoxenos in characterizing 
the foot is its division into arsis and thesis, and the relation 
of these to each other. The paragraph is quoted and 
discussed in the preceding chapter (p. 110 f.). Further, 
among the zrod:cat diapopal, or modes in which feet 
differ, the second and third depend on yévos, as deter- 
mined by the ratio between arsis and thesis (298 Mor.). 
The ratio 2: 2 marks the dactylic class, that of 1: 2 
the iambic, that of 2:38 the paionic; and over against 
these three classes as one group, that of the rational 
feet, are set the irrational feet as another group. Also, 
frag. 11 from Psellos reads: €or: dé cai év TH TOD puO mod 
duce 0 TrodiKds AOYOS WoTrEep ev TH TOD Hpmoopmevou TO 
avpgdovov. ‘The comparison is just, and is one phase of 
the same fact which was emphasized on an earlier page, 
that rhythm and tune are alike in having to do with fairly 
simple ratios, which a trained ear can recognize and » 
estimate in the one case no less than in the other. Two 
notes produced by strings vibrating atthe same rate are 
in unison; if the vibrations are to each other as one to 
two, we have the concord of the octave; if as two to 
three, we have the concord of the fifth. These are the 
primary and perfect concords, corresponding to the 
ratios between arsis and thesis in the fundamental 
rational feet. In contrast with these rational feet the 
indeterminate ratio between arsis and thesis does indeed 
mark a distinction in character; but in two important 
respects the rational and irrational feet belong together. 
First, irrational feet were employed only in connection 
with the rational, not forming by themselves irrational 
meters (which would be simply unrhythmical) but 
mingled with the rational and so varying the too 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 151 


monotonous flow. It is true we nowhere find this 
explicitly stated in our fragments; but so many things 
imply it that one can hardly doubt it. Secondly, the 
irrational feet were themselves classed in yévn corre- 
sponding to those of the rational feet with which the 
irrational feet were used, and were named accord- 
ingly. This is a reasonable inference from such a dis- 
tinct example as the description in Aristides Q. (p. 39 
Mb.) of the ddroyos yopetos iawBoedyjs and tpoxaoesdys. 
Nomenclature probably varied on this as on so many 
other points ; but it is in no way inconsistent. with the 
letter or spirit of what we have from Aristoxenos to 
speak of irrational iambi, trochees, dactyls, anapzsts, 
and so on. In practice much confusion and misunder- 
standing would be avoided if all would use such terms 
with care, observing strictly the character of the rational 
feet among which the irrational ones occur, and never 
applying the term spondee, e. g., without qualification, 
to an irrational trochee or iambus, or the term dactyl to 
the irrational choree of Aristides. 

The importance of arsis and thesis in the Greek theory, 
the distinctness with which they were felt as constituent 
and essential portions of the foot, carried with it important 
consequences. It explains why a foot-time occupied by 
a single prolonged syllable was to them not a foot; while 
to us, in our music, a whole measure so occupied by a 
single note is as true and normal a measure as any, and 
this in spite of the fact that modern musicians distinguish 
arsis and thesis in the measure, naming them in Greek 
fashion and with the Greek names. ‘The division is real; 
but the development of music independently of verse has 
left that division in the background, while to the Greeks 
it loomed in the foreground very large. It explains also 
why the ancients felt no need of what appears to us a very 


152 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


great simplification, for modern music indispensable — I 
mean the method of so dividing into feet or measures 
that each measure begins with a down-beat. Without 
that our music would be intolerable complicated. The 
adoption of that method may be placed on a par, in the 
development of music, with the invention of the musical 
staff; the substitution of the Arabic numerals for the 
Greek or Roman was an advance of similar kind, and 
not so very much greater, in arithmetic. But to the 
Greeks arsis and thesis were no less distinct entities 
than the foot; they were so far independent that within 
the foot one order for those parts was as good as the 
other. If therefore a line began with an up-beat, the 
natural thing seemed to be to regard that and the follow- 
ing down-beat as a foot, and so divide the rest of the line ; 
if another rhythm in the same class, iambic say, began 
with a thesis, then it was equally natural to put with it the 
following arsis for the first foot, and divide the whole on 
that basis. Do not the darkness and the light make a 
complete day no less than the light and the darkness? 
Then too there were differences of ethos and of treatment 
between rhythms that began with an arsis and those of the 
same class but beginning with athesis. Those differences 
demanded a partially separate description of such rhythms, 
and were a positive ground, for them amply sufficient, for 
the differentiation in the division into feet. Like differen- 
ces of ethos and treatment are present in our music, but 
the Greeks made more of them than we do. They can 
all be described no less readily and simply under our 
system of division into measures, which gets rid of some 
complications inseparable from the ancient method. 
Take as a simple example the paroemiac line as sung, in 


gor’ av wappeyyeis doTpev 
pimras rNevcow Sé Tdd” Fwap. 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 153 


By the ancient theory the syllables 5é 769° #}- are plainly 
an anapest. But -wap is a thesis; by omission of the 
intervening arsis, needful to make a complete foot, the 
preceding anapest is changed. The syllable 7}- becomes 
a tetraseme, in this case not a modixds ypdvos but adrijs 
Ths pu0porrovias tdios, extending beyond the limit of its 
proper foot. Thus arises an abnormal anapest v vu, 
equivalent in time to an ionic.a minore, though any 
ancient, whether metricus or rhythmicus, would have 
called it simply an anapest. If now we compare this 
peculiar anapest, tas two THs puOporoiias dvaipécess, 
with ra rHv Tod odds Siva durdooovta onpeia, which, 
as Aristoxenos says, Svawéver toa dvta Kai TO apiOu@ Kal 
T@ pweyé0er, we have the dividing line between the nor- 
mal fundamental feet occurring in the middle of the 
syllable. All this is intelligible enough to one who is 
accustomed to the Greek way of looking at it; but such 
a person no longer realizes how very confusing it is to a 
beginner. Yet this is one of the simplest of such cases. 
By our method of division into measures the difficulty 
vanishes, and the line becomes —!—~~—I—~vu vlul—., 
The character of the rhythm is the same, the ear receives 
it as the same, under either method. The results of 
addition, multiplication, or division of numbers were the 
same under Greek or Roman notation as under the 
Arabic. But the difference in convenience is great in 
favor of the Arabic. Yet it must in fairness be added 
that one may not unreasonably doubt whether, all things 
considered, starting as we do with the Greek termin- 
ology and traditional method well established, the 
change to the method of our music would really simplify 
doctrine. Personally I think it would, if the change 
were once carried through. The practical advantage 
in so dividing as to make each foot begin with the 


154 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


down-beat arises from the fact that this brings before 
the eye in writing the same relations that are noted by 
the ear in listening and were marked to the eye by the 
leader of the chorus in beating time. Using the accent 
mark on the thesis effects the same result, but there is - 
a gain in bringing to bear on a confusing subject the 
conceptions and habit already familiar in our musical 
notation. And yet the necessity of constantly recurring 
to the ancients and reinterpreting their statements into 
the new form would furnish a new source of difficulty for 
the student, and that difficulty should not be underrated. 
Meantime, our first object is to understand the ancient 
system; there has been too little recognition of the man- 
ner and degree in which the rest of the system has been 
shaped by the conception of arsis and thesis. 

Later definitions and descriptions of the foot, in 
Greek and Latin metrici, are mostly in pretty close 
agreement with that of Aristoxenos. Aristides Q. 
(p. 84 Mb.) has this: Ilods peév obv dort pépos Tod travtos' 
pu0 pod, ¢ ob Tov Sov KatadapBavoper, TovTov é pEpn 
dv0, dpots xal Odors. Among the definitions discussed 
by Hoerschelmann (Ein gr. Lehrbuch der Metrik, pp. 
25 ff.) are these: Ilovs éort wetpixy cvdArdaBav Oéors 
[ovvOecrs ?] ard Sto éws EF && dv yvwpifopev To Tod péTpov 
eldds te Kal péyeOos. Also mrovs éorte petpixov ovoTnma 
cvrAraBav év ais yvwplfowev TO Tod pétpou eidds Te Kal 
péyeOos. Hephaistion gives us no definition of the foot, 
but only statements of what combinations of syllables 
make up the several feet. The same is true of most of 
the Latin metricias far as they are extant; but in Marius 
Vict. we find (p. 48 K): Pes est certus modus sylla- 
barum, quo cognoscimus totius metri speciem, composi- 
tus ex sublatione et positione. It is clear that all these, 
so far as they go, are but near or remote echoes of Aris- 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 155 


toxenos; the substance of the definition may not im- 
probably be still older. It is not too much to say that 
throughout antiquity all extant definitions of the foot 
which we can regard as containing any sound principle, 
over and above a mere enumeration of syllables and 
times, assume as the essence of the foot one thing, 
namely, its function of marking and making intelligible 
the character of the rhythm. 

On the other hand, no ancient definition says anything 
explicitly about that which most modern writers take as 
the very basis, namely stress. For example, Christ 
(Metrik?, § 69): Bei jedem Fuss oder Takt unter- 
scheidet man zwei Theile, den guten Takttheil, der 
mit verstirkter Stimme gesprochen wird, und den 
schlechten Takttheil, bei dem die Intention der Stimme 
nachlisst. Durch das Zeitverhiltniss, das zwischen den 
beiden Takttheilen stattfindet, bestimmt sich die beson- 
dere Eigenschaft des Fusses. Es definiren daher auch 
die Rhythmiker, nach dem Fragm. Paris. 6, den Fuss 
mit: 6 wovs Adyos THK éotiv ev ypdvols Keluevos. Christ 
is here, as usual, nearer to the ancients than many mod- 
erns are; yet the essence of his statement lies in the 
‘verstarkte Stimme’ on a ‘good’ or ‘strong’ part of the 
foot and a remission of stress in pronouncing another 
part, that is by comparison ‘ poor’ or ‘light’ or ‘ weak.’ 
In like manner Westphal (Rhythmik, p. 103): Da- 
mit die aic@now eine solche Gruppe als Ganzes 
erfasst, ist es nothig, dass ein einzelnes Zeitmoment 
derselben vor den tibrigen durch eine stirkere Inten- 
sion, einen gewichtvolleren Ictus, hervorgehoben werde. 
Dieser verleiht ihr denselben Halt, wie dem Worte der 
Wortaccent, und deshalb redet man auch von einem 
rhythmischen Accente. On this basis also Gleditsch 
(Miiller’s Handbuch, II?, p. 688) defines the foot: Die 


156 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


kleine Gruppe von Grundzeiten welche durch eine on- 
acta zur EKinheit verbunden werden, bildet einen Fuss, 
movs, pes. Gleditsch’s expression in the preceding par- 
_ agraph, “stiirker hervorgehoben,” is indeed capable of 
being understood in a figurative sense; but I think no 
injustice is done in attributing to him the usually 
accepted equation, onuacia, percussio, ictus, = stress, 
marked by a down-beat. 

This view and these terms are: of course perfectly — 
applicable in modern English and German verse, though 
even here they are partial and have greatly misled; 
but to transfer them to Greek verse is unwarranted 
and most distorting. ‘There are indeed several ancient 
definitions of feet that go beyond mere enumeration 
of the constituent syllables, but stop short of the full 
statement of the function of feet. ‘These, like the one 
quoted by Christ, center in the division into arsis and 
thesis, up-beat and down-beat, ‘sublatio’ or ‘elevatio’ 
and ‘positio’ or ‘depositio,’ and assume a regular beat- | 
ing of time by movement of the foot, or sometimes of 
the hand or finger, which beating of time has for its 
object the measuring off into the characteristic feet and 
kola, for speaker or listener or both, of the entire series 
of times intended. These definitions therefore clearly 
involve, though they do not explicitly state it, the Aris- 
toxenean view as to the function of the foot. But they 
say nothing explicitly about good and bad, heavy and 
light, stressed and unstressed portions. So far Kaw- 
ezynski and Bennett and Schultz, in the places above 
referred to (pp. 32 and 53), are right. So much must 
be granted, whether one goes the rest of the way with 
them or not. It is impossible to escape the inference 
that in Greek verse at least, if not also in Latin verse, 
either there was no regular and constant variation in 





FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 157 


stress between arsis and thesis, or such variation was so 
slight that the Greeks were hardly or not at all conscious 
of it. In describing their verse the Greeks made nothing 
of such variation, and gave it no distinct place in their 
scientific or artistic theory of verse. At the very least, 
modern writers give to accent in the sense of stress, not 
only in modern verse but in ancient verse and music, 
vastly greater prominence than any ancient assigns to it. 
And even in modern verse and music, unprejudiced ex- 
amination of the numerous and manifold cases in which 
rhythm is perfect without any possible variation in stress, 
and others in which a particular rhythm preserves its 
essential character under a distinct change of relative 
stresses, will show that more weight has been assigned 
to this element than is due. The results of psychologi- 
cal experiments along this line must be received with 
two deductions. First, as Bennett points out, all the 
subjects are necessarily persons much accustomed to 
rhythms of heavy stress and very little accustomed to 
rhythms in which stress is nearly or quite lacking. 
What results would be obtained with ancient Greek 
subjects we cannot know. It is quite possible they 
might be different. Secondly, starting with the tacit 
assumption that stress is essential, experimenters have 
almost confined their investigation to stress-rhythms, un- 
- consciously ignoring other large classes, like the rhythms 
of motion appealing to the eye alone, or those produced 
by uniform continuous sound, like a musical note ona 
pipe organ, interrupted as briefly as possible at regularly 
varying intervals. These last approach far more nearly 
to the rhythms of ancient Greek speech, as the ancients 
describe them, than do any on which psychological experi- 
ments have been made, so far as these have come to my 
notice. In modern music the immense importance of 


158 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


stress-accent to expression makes it difficult to separate 
in thought the elements that are intimately united in 
actual rendering. Butsuch a separation must be insisted 
on; without it scientific analysis halts half way. And 
if one will listen to the playing of any simple composi- 
tion on a pipe-organ without use of the swell, it will be- 
come evident that stress is not always essential to rhythm 
even in our music. The rhythm is unmistakable in such 
playing, though variation in stress is impossible. 

The primary and essential notion which the ancients 
connected with the terms onuacfa and ictus, and with 
the more common terms @éous, dpois, Baows, 0 KaTw or ave 
xpévos, Baiverat o puOuds, and with percutere, percussio, 
ferire, and the rest, was that of beating time. No extant 
passage expressly states that the down-beat of hand or 
foot was accompanied by increased stress in utterance. 
Whether we, with our relatively great use of variation 
in stress in speaking modern languages, can properly 
maintain the rhythm and make it distinct to our hearers © 
of like habit, without a similar, even though slighter, 
employment of stress in reading ancient verse, is one 
question; whether the ancients regularly made such a 
use of stress is another question. And the latter nar- 
rows down to these two questions: First, is there any 
extant passage in which greater stress in thesis is neces- 
sarily implied ? Secondly, is there from any other source 
a warrant for assuming slightly greater stress in thesis, 
even though ancient writers did not recognize it? Of 
course, also, we must not confuse Greek with Latin 
usage; the two may have been different in this regard. 
We have respectable evidence that Latin word-accent 
included a certain amount of stress, while for classical 
Greek nothing of the sort has been shown. It is prim- 
arily Greek that we are now considering. Without 





FOOT, ICTUS, **CYCLIC” FEET 159 


attempting to review in detail the controversial articles 
of Bennett and Hendrickson, it will conduce to brevity if 
we start from the arguments of the latter (A. J. P., 1899, 
vol. xx, pp. 198-210). 

The passage from Aristoxenos (§ 17) trav 8 rodav 
of pev ex Sto ypdvev avyxKelTal, TOD Te avw Kal Tod 
«ato (1. c., p. 199) is misinterpreted by Hendrickson ; 
xpdvos does not here mean ypdvos mpatos, as was shown 
above (p. 134 ff.). Aristoxenos does not admit the 
existence of the pyrrhic, because the Stonuov péyeBos 
TavTenas av éyot TuKvyy THY TrodiuKHY onmaciav. Nothing 
can be found in these words beyond the simple statement 
that the alternation of down-beat and up-beat, thesis and 
arsis, within the déonmov péyePos would be altogether too 
frequent; hence feetof that magnitude are not used. 
In other words, as a unit of measurement for the whole 
rhythm sucha foot would be too small; for such a rhythm 
feet of the rerpdonpov péyeOos are a far more convenient 
unit. Exactly the same thing is true of modern music; 
if very rarely, to produce a special effect, or by way of 
experiment, a composer has employed 2 time, the excep- 
tion is of a sort to prove the soundness of the general 
rule, which excludes 2 time, — not as impossible, but as 
inconvenient and forced. The same series of times is 
more naturally grouped in ¢ or # time, which are therefore 
universally preferred. This is quite independent of the 
nature of ictus; and we have seen that our musical 
rhythms may be perfectly distinct without stress. 
Complete elimination of stress in rendering a composition 
of considerable length would make it seem to us tame 
and expressionless; but the rhythm would still be 
perfectly clear. Bennett is quite right, then, in refusing 
to see in this passage of Aristoxenos anything to show 
that cnuacia implied stress. 


160 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Nor is Hendrickson’s treatment of Aristoxenos § 4 
any more convincing (l. c., pp. 200 ff.). The inter- 
pretation of the passage is discussed at length above 
(pp. 101-104), where the inadequacy of Westphal’s 
illustration is pointed out. But even if it were admitted 
that the words of Aristoxenos are to be understood in 
the restricted sense which Westphal adopted, still it 
must be borne in mind that such ambiguous combinations 
always had a context that was not ambiguous. The 
rhythmic character established by that unambiguous 
context was without difficulty carried over to and 
through the portion that would otherwise have been 
doubtful. This is equally true whether ictus included 
stress or not. Nothing is better settled by psychological 
experiments in this field than the fact that the mind 
tends to imagine a rhythmical grouping where none is 
objectively present; and the character of the imaginary 
grouping is easily affected by slight suggestions from 
accompanying circumstances. Similar ambiguities are 
frequent in English verse, and they are resolved in the ~ 
way described. One can easily find, in so perfect a 
versifier as Tennyson, plenty of lines in which the 
rhythm at the beginning is made clear only by the closing 
words of the line. In this case the reader automatically 
looks ahead, solves the problem, and usually so puts the 
stress, in accordance with his solution, that a listener 
perceives no ambiguity. But in many cases it is not 
difficult to preserve such a balance of stress on the 
rhythmically doubtful phrase as will practically, for the 
moment, eliminate stress, and leave the situation substan- 
tially what it was in Greek if stress was perfectly level. 
The listener, then, if he be sensitive to rhythm, feels the 
momentary ambiguity, but at once resolves it in memory 
when the succeeding portion makes that possible. The 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 161 


total effect is pleasing rather than otherwise; it is 
somewhat analogous to the effect in our polyphonic 
music when the milder discords are resolved into per- 
fect concords. I see no reason, so far as this passage 
is concerned, why this may not have been the case in 
Greek rhythm. 

And in these cases of a considerable succession of 
short syllables, as well as in the case of the dipodic 
grouping of pure trochees or iambi, which Hendrickson 
next adduces (1. c., p. 202 f.), one principle which 
Hendrickson overlooks must by no means be left out of 
view. Exceedingly minute variations in length would 
be as effective in causing a particular rhythmic grouping 
as variation in stress. A quantitative difference of afew 
thousandths of a second would suffice, and would not in 
the least interfere with the sense that the adjacent short 
syllables were substantially equal, and that the ratios 
appropriate to the particular rhythms were preserved 
with satisfactory precision. And in the ordinary iambic 
trimeter and trochaic tetrameter there was in fact a 
marked quantitative difference of that sort, in that the 
alternate foot might be irrational, and was irrational in a 
large fraction of the cases. Since the common type was 
a dipody of one pure and one irrational trochee or iambus, 
and this dipody in all recitative and in much of the melic 
verse of this class was constantly recurring, the ancient 
reader or listener could not but form unconsciously the 
habit of expecting it. The dipodic grouping, thus 
marked, was mentally associated with all iambic and 
trochaic verse; dipodies, and even whole lines, in which 
the irrational syllable did not occur would yet be grouped 
unconsciously in the same way; and it is by no means 
improbable that in rendering such dipodies and lines a 


faint suggestion of the irrationality, in other words a 
11 ; 


162 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


minute variation in length, was made or imagined. So 
far as I can now analyze the process in my own mind — 
the process was practically complete before this question 
presented itself to me—the above is a true account of 
it. That “there is but one principle by which such 
grouping can take place, and that is intensity on the 
one or the other of the elements of the group,” must 
be emphatically denied. In short, of positive evidence 
for increased stress in thesis in Greek verse there is 
none, so far as I can see, that will bear critical exami- 
nation. 

As regards Latin the situation appears to me some- 
what different. Not that the positive evidence from the 
grammarians is really any stronger; for nothing ad- 
duced by Hendrickson appears to me fully convincing by 
itself. All the writers on metric were so strongly under 
the influence of the Greek theory that we cannot expect 
to find in them any view that was not found in their 


originals or models, anything due wholly to first-hand - 


observation of Latin speech. But if the word-accent, 
though mainly a pitch-accent, contained also a distinct 
stress-element, then the Romans were accustomed in 
daily speech to regular variation in stress, to slightly 
increased stress on certain fixed syllables. This varia- 
tion in stress was certainly not so great as to prevent, or 
render unnatural, the adoption of the quantitative prin- 
ciple as the basis of versification among the cultivated 
classes, powerfully influenced as they were by Greek 
letters. Compared with English, the Latin stress was 
fairly to be called level; every syllable was clearly enun- 
ciated; the rhythmizing impulse could apparently have 
‘dealt with the language pretty satisfactorily on either 
basis, so nearly were the stress-principle and the quanti- 
tative principle balanced, in the period when the pre- 







—_—_ 

-— \B RAR ~ 
fo oan " ‘\ 
( UNIVERSITY | 
\ 


OF 
QCALIFORNIEY 








FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 163 


dominance of Greek culture turned the scale. But the 
adoption of either principle left the other still in the 
language, a positive factor in pronunciation of verse as 
well as prose. In English, German, and Italian the 
_ word-accent, strongly stressed in the first two, less 
strongly in the last, is the more prominent in versifica- 
tion; but quantity, which is simply time of pronuncia- 
tion, is not thereby eliminated from the verse, and 
cannot be wholly disregarded by the poet or his reader, 
though it is in general subordinated. To say, as Bennett 
does (A. J. P., vol. XX, p. 418), that Latin verse could 
not be both quantitative and accentual, that a line could 
not be felt simultaneously as 


BEEN" APRESS ERTS SR Od RT We ASE 
and as 
OM MEA MOVERS MK EM, 


is clearly erroneous. Finding no difficulty myself in so 
rendering and feeling it, and in teaching pupils to 
render it so, I see no difficulty in supposing that a 
Roman could do the same. Still farther, there is no im- 
possibility or intrinsic improbability, so far as I can see, 
in the supposition of a rhythm distinctly and primarily 
quantitative, accompanied by a slight stress on the 
down-beat, and yet containing a small number of slightly 
stressed word-accents in arsis, in a certain degree of con- 
flict with the regular ictus. I say conflict, not shrink- 
ing from the stronger form of expression; but a better 
phrase would be, alongside of yet not interfering with 
the ictus.. There are plenty of illustrations of this in 
English verse; but these can be cited convincingly only 
with the living voice, for the argument rests wholly on 


164 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


the manner of rendering.! The conflict between the 
two in Latin was certainly not so sharp as to make Ver- 
gil’s versification otherwise than pleasing and natural ; 
but in all periods, from Plautus down, the Romans 
appear to have felt some conflict, if in rhythmically 
uncertain or less certain combinations the word-accent 
was too much out of agreement with the rhythmic beats. 
The precise degree in which that feeling influenced con- 
sciously the verse-construction may be and is disputed ; 
that the feeling was there and had some influence 
appears to be beyond question. In Greek of the classi- 
cal age there is no trace of such a feeling; the evidence 
for it in Catullus and Horace, as well as in Plautus, is 
very strong. In the light of this it is reasonable to give 
more weight, as regards Latin, to general considerations 
drawn from modern experiments. 

This must be made clearer by examples. In the tri- 
meter of Terence discussed by Cesius Bassus (p. 555 f. 
K.; see Hendrickson, 1. c., p. 208), ) 


1 Some examples of what I mean are: 
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees. (Keats.) 
But kiss’d it and then fled, as Thou mightest in dream. (Shelley.) 
There is sweet music here that softer falls 
Than petals from blown roses on the grass, 
Or night-dews on still waters between walls. (Tennyson.) 
Our father’s kingdom, because pure, is safe. 
The sweetest harp-player in Catana. 
Looks once and drives elsewhere, and leaves its last employ. 
Over the lit sea’s unquiet way. (MM. Arnold.) 


Of course it is possible to say that these are bad lines. To that one 
can only reply, Is it likely that the objector is a better judge, in a 
matter of verse-technic, than poets who were so well-trained and so 
successful in the practice of the art as those quoted? At any rate, 
they deemed such combinations of ictus and accent legitimate, and the 
examples illustrate my point, 


a 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 165 


Exclusit, revocat, redeam?. non, si me obsecret, 


every word-accent coincides with a down-beat. Now the 
phraseology of Bassus does not of itself, to my mind, 
necessarily mean more than that beating time keeps one 
clearly in the iambic movement (the line was not isolated, 
but stood with other senarii), so that the “long” syllables 
in arsis were unhesitatingly made irrational and the line 
was felt to be a senarius and not dactylic. But we can- 
not suppose that the slightly greater stress which would 
in prose accompany the word-accent was wholly elimin- 
ated when those accents coincided with the down-beat. 
Rather the indisputable sympathetic influence of one set 
of muscles upon the other would tend to strengthen the 
inclination already present; that is, the more forcible 
down-beat of the foot, with the sound of the blow, would 
tend to increase the inclination to pronounce with more 
force the accented syllable that accompanied the blow. 
And this particular line is merely one very good illus- 
tration of a rather common phenomenon, common 
enough to show the tendency referred to above, to make 
accent and ictus fall on the same syllable, in places 
where otherwise the rhythm would not be sufficiently 
clear. A notable case is furnished by Horace, Carm. III 
12, in which no word-accent is allowed to fall elsewhere 
than on one of the three beats of the ionic foot. Of 
course, as regards the accented longs, that is inevitable 
and of no significance ; but in the case of the two shorts 
it is otherwise. And though in the sixteen lines of the 
poem there are twenty-one instances of an accented short 
penult or antepenult, in every instance that accented 
short syllable is the former of the pair which the meter 
requires, never the latter. It is hard to see any reason 
why Horace never made that pair consist of the final 


166 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


short of one word and the accented short of a following 
iambic word, unless it was a desire to make the word- 
accent a help rather than a hindrance to the perception 
of the rhythm, since this was an unusual one in Latin. 
In the very next ode, for example, also containing six~ 
teen lines, but with only twenty-four pairs of short syl- 
lables against forty pairs in III 12, there are three pairs 
consisting of a short final syllable followed by an ac- 
cented short initial syllable In Cid. Tyr. 483-512, or 
in the Persians 66-116, in substantially the same meter 
as Horace III 12, there is no trace of such a law as 
Horace observed. In Cid. Tyr. 483-496, for example, 
one strophe only, and excluding some cases that one 
might question, there are thirteen pairs of short syllables 
in which the former is unaccented and _ the latter 
accented. 

The conclusion is at present for me unavoidable that 
in Latin the thesis was usually accompanied by a slight 


stress, which fell, if the thesis consisted of two short © 


syllables, on the former of the pair. The stress was not 
so strong but that writers on metric could easily over- 
look it or treat it as of no importance, since rhythm is 
wholly a matter of time, and stress is merely one means, 
to them of minor value, though to us the most impor- 
tant, of indicating the grouping of times. In some com- 
binations the stress was not felt at all; even in English 
it is not always present on every foot, as may be readily 
discerned by a careful and unprejudiced reader. In 
plain and well-known meters the Latin poet could allow 
a good many word-accents, very slightly stressed, to fall 
elsewhere than in thesis, without disturbing the strong 


1 Catullus 63 furnishes a more complicated and very interesting 
illustration of the tendency, as I hope to show in a paper to be pub- 
lished not long hence. 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 167 


quantitative flow; but in more complex or less familiar 
combinations he felt obliged to shun such disagreements, 
or admit them cautiously. 

It is true that if we had no other evidence for stress 
in the word-accent, this would be reasoning in a circle; 
but since comparative philology brings excellent testi- 
mony for that from quite another field,! the above con- 
clusion really rests on three independent pieces of 
evidence, no one of them sufficient alone, but all har- 
monizing and supporting one another, and forming 
together a strong argument. In regard to Greek verse 
I can find only one of these three pieces of evidence for 
stress, namely, that sympathetic influence of one set of 
muscles upon another. This is derived from modern 
observation and experiment, and is not convincing alone. 
We must beware of pressing this too far upon a people 
who were certainly far more accustomed than we are to 
rhythms in which stress was weak or lacking. 

As to our own practice in reading Latin and Greek 
verse, we may safely go as far toward eliminating stress 
as we can without destroying either our consciousness 
of the rhythm or our hearer’s perception of it. If one 
can, while preserving the rhythm and duly bringing out 
the poet’s thought, at the same time indicate without 
confusion to the listener those word-accents that do not 
coincide with a beat, that is an accomplishment not to 
be underrated, well worth some effort to acquire. But 
it is not worth any sacrifice of rhythm or thought. For 
most people the effort to indicate those non-coincident 
word-accents obscures what is more important. That 
the Greeks and Romans read so as to preserve clearly all 
three elements is not questioned, but that is another 


1 See Lindsay, The Latin Language, p. 148f.; Stolz, Lat. Gram., 
p. 98 f. 


168 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


matter. And it should be noted that for us to disregard 
the word-accents in order to preserve the rhythm is no 
more than the Greeks, at least, habitually did in singing. 
The testimony of Dionysios Hal. and his example from 
the Orestes (De Comp. Verb. 11, pp. 180 ff. Schzefer) are 
so explicit and detailed as to leave no possible doubt on 
that point. The rhythm the ancients never disregarded ; 
evidently they deemed it more fundamentally important 
in poetic form than the pitch accent. If therefore in 
reading we must choose, we are justified in choosing on 
the same principle. And if, in order to preserve the 
rhythm, it is necessary for one to give some stress on 
the ictus, we being so unaccustomed to maintain rhythm 
without that, the violence done is next to nothing —by 
no means equal to the harm done by a course which 
makes the verse appear to us unrhythmical or scarcely 
rhythmical. In English and German our practice in 
singing is analogous to that of the ancients, but precisely 
reversed. We are not at all disturbed when the com- ' 
poser requires us to neglect the spoken quantities and 
substitute a new musical rhythm for them; but we ex- 
pect him to preserve pretty carefully in that substituted 
rhythm the original (stressed) word-accents. 

There remains the serious question of “cyclic” or 
“ three-timed ” anapzests and dactyls, to which so large 
a place has been assigned. The slightness of ancient 
evidence for them is well known. It consists of two 
passages from Dionysios Hal. In the treatise De Comp. 
Verb. 17, enumerating the various feet, he says: 

‘O Sé ard THs paxpas apydcpuevos, Ajyov Sé és Tas Bpa- 
xelas, Saxtudos péev Karelral, mavu 8é éort cemvos, Kab 
els KaANOS dppovias aEvorXoydraTos, Kal Td ye HpwiKoV 
pétpov ard TovTOU KoopElTaL Ws él TOTOAD. Trapdderypa 
dé avrod tdbe° 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 169 


"Tricbev pe hépwv dvewos Kixdveoot réXaccev. 


e / € \ 7 an \ \ \ , 
ot wévToe pvOutKot TovTOU Tod Todds TY waxpav Bpayute- 
pav eivai hact ris tedelas* ov« Exovtes S€é cireiv wdécw, 

rn S-Of% »” wv OR 3 / / 7 
Kandodow avThv adoyov. érepov dé avrictpodpdv tiva ToT 
¢€ a \ a > X a a > ’ > \ \ BA 
puOuov, 0s aro Tav Bpayeav apEdwevos él THv aroyov 
TAUTHV TENEUTA, YMPicaYTEs ATO TOV avatraloTwV, KUKAOV 
KaXovol, Tapaderywa avTod pépovtes ToLdvde * 


Kéxvtat TOMS tnplruNos KaTa yar. 


mept oy av erepos ein AGyosS. TAY awhdrepol ye THY Tdvu 
Kar@v ot puO pol, 

A little later (20) Dionysios quotes and comments on 
some especially appropriate and expressive examples of 
avv0ects ovoudrwv, among them the Sisyphos passage 
from Od. 11. On the last line of this, 


avtis éretta médovde KuAWVSeTO Adas avaLdys, 


he says: 
} Ae | UA od Ul a 4 e a 

Ovyl cvycataxexiMotat T@ Bape THS TwéTpas 4 TOV 
ovoparav cvvOects, wadXrov Sé EpOaxe Tiv ToD AMMov dopav 
TO THS atrayyertas Tdyos; Ewouye Soxe?. nal ris évtrad0a 

, $7 , ” IDA e 4 
madw aitia; Kal yap tavtnv a&vov ideiv> o THY KaTa- 
dopav SnrOv Tod métpouv otlyos, wovocvANaBov pév ovde- 
plav, SiavrAdraBous Sé dv0 pdvas éywv réEes. TodTO ovK eG 
mTpatov SuotynKévar Tos Ypdvous, GAN éritayvve. ere? 
e f' an > a] > Ae f PS) / / > 
értaxaloeca ovAXNaB av ovoav év TH oTlyo, Séxa pev eior 
Bpaxeiat cvrArNaBal, érra dé udvar paxpal, cal ov8 adrat 
Térelol. avayKn ovv Kateordcba Kal cvotédArcoOar THY 
dpaow, th Bpaxttntt Tav cvrAdaBav éperxopevynv. ert 
mpos TovTOLS OvdSe dvOma Ard GvdmaTos aELCNOYOV eiAnpeE 
Sidotacw* ovre yap havnevte hover, ovTe Hnuipove 
nuipwvov n apwvov, a Tpaytvew mépuce Kal Suctdvev TAS 
dppovias, ovdév éott tapakeluevov. ov 6% dSudoTacts aic- 
OnrH, wy Sinptnuéevov Tav réEewv, ard cvvod\rcPaivovew 


170 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


adrAnrNaLs Kab cuvyxatadépovral, Kal Tpdrov Twa pla ~ 


dracav yivera dia THY TOV appwowudv axpiBeav. oO bé 
padiota TaV ad\rdwov Oavudlav aEvov, puOmos oddels TAY 
paxpav, of iow éxovot wimrev eis weTpov Hp@ov, ovTE 
a7rovdeios, ovTe Baxyeios, éyKaTapmemKTal TO oTix@, TAHV 
érl Ths TedevTHS* of O& AdroL TavTes elol SdKTVAOL, Kal 
ovrol ye mapadcdiwypmévas eyovTes TAS ANGyous, GoTE M7 
mor Siahepev eviovs THv Tpoxalwy, ovdév O79 TI avTi- 
mMpatrov éotiv, evTpoYoV Kal Trepipeph Kal KaTappéovoay 
elvar THY ppdoww, éx ToLovT@Y cUyKeKpoTHMéernVY pvOwar. 

Though long, these passages should be before the 
reader without abbreviation, that he may see the full 
bearing of some expressions that have not been duly 
regarded. The word «v«dov in the former extract, for 
which G. Hermann, and before him Upton, conjectured 
Kvxduov, first suggested and alone supports the name 
cyclic in this application. 

Westphal (Rhythmik, pp. 49-53, and Mettik, pp. 15- 
26) cites the passages and applies them to the declama- 
tion of the rhapsodes. Accordingly he sees in them a 
strong confirmation of his theory of a radical distinction 
between verse that was spoken and verse that was sung. 
The Homeric poems were recited, not sung. Dionysios 
tells us that in these hexameters from the Odyssey the 
long syllables are not réAeor, but aAroyou, shorter than 
the complete long, some of the dactyls not differing 
much in duration from trochees. Therefore, it is ar- 
gued, recitative hexameters in general were less than 
four-timed. Kudos, cyclic, may well have been an 
ancient descriptive epithet for these rapid, incommensur- 
able, and variable dactyls. Also, as Dionysios has pre- 
viously cited Aristoxenos, and cites him alone of the pv6- 
pixot by name, and here attributes this doctrine to the 
puv@uxoi, it seems not unreasonable to suppose that his 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 171 


authority here also is no other than Aristoxenos. This 
chain of reasoning is clearly one that merits respectful 
treatment. 

The main grounds for assuming a radical distinction 
between sung and spoken verse have been examined 
above (chap. iv) and found fallacious; but what if these 
passages prove, or assume as settled, a like distinction ? 
Dionysios is himself a good authority; if he really says 
what is attributed to him, and if besides he is following 
Aristoxenos, the facts must not be blinked. 

However, to take the last point first, there is no proof 
whatever, at the utmost only a possibility, which may 
become a probability if the doctrine is found reasonable 
and not inconsistent with his known teaching, that Aris- 
toxenos is in this case the source. There were certainly 
other pu@uixoi; we have seen, for example (p. 12 f.), that 
the time-scale of consonant, short vowel, long vowel, 
cited from the puduixo/ as a rule of universal application, 
cannot have been taught in that form by Aristoxenos, be- 
cause a mind so keen and logical would have seen the 
patent inconsistency of that scale with the fundamental 
principles of his rhythmical system as applied to lan- 
guage. And in this case the name Aristoxenos occurs a 
long way back, in chapter 14, in connection with the 
description and classification of sounds. The bridge of 
argument is pretty slender and slippery from so distant 
a mention of Aristoxenos under the specific title of 
6 povotxds, there employed, to the conclusion that the 
general term ot puvOmxoi in 17, amid the discussion of 
another topic, means the same man. 

Again in the passage from 17 three points are to be 
noted. First, the term xv«dov is not applied to the 
dactyl, but to a variety of the anapest, which Dionysios 
says these rhythmici separate from strict anapests. That 


cei ae CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


they, or that Dionysios, applied the term to a class of 
dactyls also is not stated nor in any way implied. While 
not improbable, it is not proved, nor safely to be inferred 
from this passage alone. Nor, by the way, do we get 
elsewhere any hint that Aristoxenos knew of more 
than one class of either dactyls or anapests. Secondly, 
the anapests quoted in illustration can hardly be recita- 
tive, if the form yay is right. What warrant had West- 
phal, who accepted that reading, for assuming that these 
anapests were not melic? And Dionysios evidently 
regarded them as parallel to the dactyls under discussion 
(avriotpoddv twa TovT@ puOudv) in every particular save 
the order of arsis and thesis. This does not look like 
.a sharp separation between sung and spoken verse. 
Thirdly, what does rovrou rod modds in the line follow- 
ing the hexameter refer to? Unless a lacuna be assumed, 
a rather violent assumption, the phrase must simply re- 
sume the avrod just before the hexameter, the rovrov 


just before that, and the édx«rvros two lines earlier, © 


which immediately follows the phrase of description. 
Also, the quotation is introduced explicitly as an exam- 
ple of the dactyl, without qualification —the ordinary 
dactyl, with no hint that there is any other kind of a 
dactyl. If it is meant as an example of some other than 
the normal dactyl, why is not that normal four-timed 
dactyl mentioned separately? Dionysios is here enum- 
erating and briefly describing all the ordinary feet, clas- 
sified according to the number of syllables, first the 
disyllabic, then the trisyllabic. Feet of more than three 
syllables he does not enumerate, expressly saying that 
he regards them as compounded of these twelve simple 
feet, of mp@to. katametpobvres Atracav euperpdv te Kal 
awetpov réEww, é& dv ylvovra otlyou Te Kal Koda. It is 
true that he is considering prose primarily, but the 











FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 173 


expressions just quoted show clearly that he recognizes 
no essential difference between the feet according as 
they occur in prose or verse. The difference between 
prose and verse, rhythmically, results wholly from the 
way in which individual feet are combined in one and 
the other. As illustrations therefore of the feet on 
which prose rhythm depends he gives examples from 
verse, merely because in them several of a kind occur 
together. And the closing sentence of the chapter is, 
kal Trept pev TovTwv [i. e., wodav] ovK ofS Sri Set TrElw 
Aéyerv. In other words, he has enumerated and de- 
scribed all the feet of verse, as well as of prose. Where 
is the full four-timed dactyl? Either it is strangely 
omitted, or Dionysios supposed it to be in the hexameter 
quoted. 

' Again, the ddoyos which the rhythmici saw in these 
dactyls is unlike the adroyos of Aristoxenos, so far as 
that is known from his pretty full and minute description 
of it examined above (p. 110 ff.), in one particular. 
His irrational syllable is always in arsis; this of the 
thythmici is a thesis. The difference is important and 
significant. The irrational arsis occurs frequently in 
iambic and trochaic meters, is found in the yévos #usddALov, 
apparently also among four-timed feet in some circum- 
stances, but its usage is strictly limited; and when every 
thesis remains rational, the precise fundamental ratios 
are never so far hidden or so widely departed from but 
that the whole is felt to be rhythmical. To extend 
irrationality to the thesis, however, is a long step towards 
the unrhythmical. In some way the thesis, whether by 
stress upon it, or by the fact that it was in some meters 
always a long syllable, while in the others long syllables 
were there far less often replaced by shorts than in the 
arsis, or for some farther reason not yet ascertained — 


174 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


the thesis was certainly somehow felt to be the more 
prominent and more fixed portion of the foot. The series 
of @éces was in the whole rhythmic design a sort of 
central thread, a firmer pattern beside and along which 
are grouped the more varied dapces. It is the latter 
chiefly that provide the needful relief from monotony, 
from an arithmetical precision that would be machine-like 


and repellent. But if in @éces also there was such a | 


degree of variation from the normal times as can properly 
be called aXoyia, little of rhythmic ratio is left. Much 
rather is it probable that less clear-headed followers of 
Aristoxenos, bringing under his doctrine of andoyia, 
where he had not placed it, a phenomenon that we have 
next to consider, extended his term in a way that he 
would not have approved. ‘This phase of the doctrine of 
aXoyla seems to go with that fallacious time-scale which 
makes any and every consonant equal in time to one half 
a short vowel. Obviously even in these peculiarly rapid 
hexameters that scale would not only destroy rhythm, 
but would prove them to be really rather slow. But the 
impossibility of practical application of the scale to 
concrete rhythms, and inconsistency with other plain 
facts, weighed little with the advocates of the scale over 
against so pretty an apparent demonstration as they had. 
So in this case. Seeing in these and like verses a real 
difference in rapidity of movement when spoken, as 
compared with other verses in the same class but of 
more clogging collocation of elements, some rhythmi- 
cians, prominent enough to be followed by others, ex- 
tended the principle of adoyéa to cover the phenomenon. 

But the real explanation of the matter Dionysios gives 
in the second extract. He was a keen critic and rhetori- 
cian; repeatedly, after mentioning a view that looks 
plausible in itself but does not explain the facts quite 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 175 


satisfactorily, he then leaves the theory in the background 
and dwells rather on the facts. This he does here. In 
contrast with the preceding lines, which he has just 
analyzed and shown to harmonize in phonetic structure 
with the slow and labored action there portrayed, in this 
line sounds are combined in a way to favor rapidity of 
utterance. First, the words are longer—no mono- 
syllable, two disyllables, the rest of three and four 
syllables. The fewer breaks between words there are, 
the fewer points of separation. Secondly, of the seventeen 
syllables ten are short. And of the seven long syllables 
not one — except the last — contains more elements than 
are needful to make it pass for long and at the same 
time avoid hiatus; that is, no long vowel or diphthong is 
followed by more than one consonant; two consonants 
occur only where required to extend a short vowel to a 
long syllable. Again, as between words, there is no hiatus, 
no semi-vowel or mute meets a semi-vowel, there is no 
rhetorical pause and no elision, the words almost run 
together into one. And finally there is no one of the 
slower feet, — no spondee and no bacchius, for example, 
except at the end. And even the five dactyls, he adds, 
do not have the complete long, but “ their doyor are so 
‘chased along’ that some of the feet do not differ much 
from trochees. You see, there is nothing to hinder the 
line, so constructed rhythmically, from being smooth, 
swift, flowing.” 

Clearly, though adoy/a is made a part of this explana- 
tion, it is to Dionysios but a small part. The other items 
are enough without it. It is also clear that Dionysios 
does not regard even these irrational dactyls as three-timed 
merely; the nearest approach to that view is in the 
remark that some are not much longer than trochees. 
But that implies that even the briefest are somewhat 


176 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


longer than trochees. Here then, at least, is no ground 
whatever for the assumption of dactyls in % time. 

Farther light is thrown on the matter by these well- 
known passages from Aristides Q. : , 

(1) Totrwv 8 tadv xpdvev ot mév EppvO mor réyovrat, 
of Sé dppuvOwor, of Se puOuoedeis, EppuO wor pév of ev TLL 
Ady@ mpds AAHAOVS cwlovres Taki, olov dSimracion, 
Hprorio Kab Trois Tovovrols (Adyos ydp éore dvo peyeOav — 
opolwy % mpos dAAnAa oxdots), dppvOpwor dé of mavTeds 
Gtaxrot Kal addoyas cuverpduevot, puOmoerdets Sé ot petakd 
TovT@Y Kal TH pev THS TaEews THY éppvOuwV, TH é THS 
Tapayhs Tov appyv0wov peTrecrAnpdtes. TovTav Oé oF mev 
oTpoyyUAoL KaNODVTAL OF MAAXOV Tod SeovTos ériTpexyoVTEs, 
of dé wepirrew of mAdov 4 Sei THY Bpaduthra dia cuvOérov 
hOdyyoav tTrovovpevor, Tt TV ypdvwV of pev amroi, ot Se 
moAXaTrA0!, of Kal TrodiKol KaXodvTat. (P. 33f. Mb.) 

(2) “Er tov puOpav ot péev rayvtépas trovovpevor Tas 
ayoyas Ocpuol ré eiot kal Spacrnptor, of dé Bpadelas Kab 
avaBeBrAnpevas avetpévor Te Kal Hovyactixol> ert dé oF 
pev otpoyyvror Kal éritpoyot opodpol te Kal cvvectpap- 
pévor Kal eis Tas mpakes mapaKAnTiKol, of S wepimrew 
Tov POdyyov tiv ovvbeow eyovres tbatiol ré ela Kal 
TAadapwrtepol, ob dé pécor Kexpapévot te CE Aauhoiv Kab 
ovppeTpor THY KaTdoTacw, (P.99f. Mb.) 

The resemblance between these passages and those 
from Dionysios has of course been observed, but views 
have differed as to what conclusions are to be drawn 
from it. So much depends, in these matters, on the 
standpoint from which one approaches the question. If 
we may assume that the whole body of rhythmical 
doctrine was in all details, or nearly all, settled and 
harmonious, and terminology likewise, so that slight 
differences in the latter, as between different writers, 
point with certainty or high probability to real distinc- 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 177 


tions of fact, our interpretation in this case will be of 
one sort. If, however, different writers differed consid- 
erably in their terminology, even in some rather impor- 
tant matters, and described the same phenomena not 
infrequently after different fashions, then our procedure 
should be of ariother sort. That the latter supposition 
is the true one seems to me beyond question. We have 
therefore in such cases to look always beneath the termi- 
nology and examine the phenomena themselves. That 
requires in this case close attention to phraseology and 
to sentence-structure, as well as to context. 

Passage (1) is part of the very brief division of book 
I, beginning with chapter 13, that is devoted to rhythm. 
Chapter 14 begins with the definition of mpa@ros ypdvos 
(discussed above, p. 147 f.); then follow five lines on ovv- 
Geros ypdvos — twice, thrice, and four times the magni- 
tude of the rp@ros. Then follows(1). The first words, 
Tovtwy 5) Tav xpdvewv, can refer only to the times just 
described — in brief summary, the various time-intervals 
that art is concerned with. Of these, some are éppu0uor, 
others dppvOuor, others puOuoedets. But if some are 
unrhythmical, it appears that the author, in seeking 
brevity, has tacitly extended the range of rovrav rév 
xpévev somewhat, and now is taking into account all 
time-intervals as they present themselves in continuous 
speech. (Aristides of course has in view also the other 
rhythmic arts, but we are considering speech, and his 
language in what follows must have been largely deter- 
mined by peculiarities of speech as a rhythmizomenon.) 
In speech, then, some of the times, in their relations to 
their neighbors, form a perfect rhythm, others a partial, 
shifting, imperfect rhythm. So far the passage is a sin- 
gle sentence,—a fact to be emphasized, because the 


sentence is sometimes printed as three, as by Westphal 
12 


178 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


(Rhythmik, p. 95, and elsewhere), and that changes the 
aspect of certain points. We now ask what times are 
meant by the rovrwy which begins the next sentence, 
Are they the pvOmoedeis only, or are they the same as 
the tovtay tav ypovwv above? Martianus Capella’s 
‘quorum temporum’ does not help at all. 

If the reader will divest himself of preconceived opin- 
ions and read the entire chapter with fresh attention, the - 
two possibilities will take thisform. First: This tovrav 
merely resumes the tovtwy Trav ypdvev and is again 
repeated in érs rav ypovev of the last sentence. That is, 
Aristides first defines the individual ypévo: employed in 
rhythmic art —the mporos, or unit, and the varieties of 
the ovvGeros ypdvos. Then treating these ypdvor as a 
body, he mentions, in three sentences, one for each, three 
ways of classifying them —three classifications quite in- 
dependent of each other and of that which he assumed in 
his definitions. Indeed, in the third classification, though 
it is not clear precisely what he means by azo? and 
moAAaT AO, it is clear that the zrodvcof do not exclude 
all amdot; that we have in this sentence, not strictly 
three classes made on a common basis, but rather a set 
of three somewhat related epithets applied to ypdvoe to 
indicate certain different and not altogether mutually 
exclusive relations. That state of things in the last 
sentence has a bearing on the other classifications; in 
particular it explains, by the attitude of mind which it 
indicates, what was called above tacitly extending the 
range of rovTwy Tév ypdvev so as to include all ypdvor of 
continuous speech. What there seemed a comparatively 
slight inaccuracy of expression, excusable in so brief a 
summary, is here seen to be a frank absence of any claim 
that he is describing mutually exclusive classes. Besides 
it must not be forgotten that Aristides is merely making 


FOOT, ICTUS, *“‘CYCLIC” FEET 179 


a very brief compilation; we must not expect in any 
such work, however well done, the logical precision of 
an Aristoxenos, writing at ten or twenty times as great 
length on the same topic. Or, secondly: If the rovrwy 
refers to fuOuoedeis alone, all else that has just been 
said still remains true. We should go beyond the inten- 
tion of Aristides if we insist always on sharp distinctions 
between the classes to which these epithets apply. And 
from the essential nature of language rhythm, éppvOuo, 
dppv0wot, pul moerde’s are not and cannot be made mathe- 
matically exact terms. That does not lessen their value 
and utility, if they are not abused. They describe con- 
veniently certain classes of effects that shade impercep- 
tibly into each other. When the ratios between the 
times of a group are few, and reach a sufficient degree 
of regularity, the times, or the group, may be called 
éppu0uos ; if the ratios are too numerous and too irreg- 
ular, the result is adppv0u/a; a group intermediate in 
character is puOmoerdys ; on some groups any two people 
might disagree. No one of these epithets can be applied 
to a single time-interval, except to indicate its relation 
to another, or to a group. 

Under these circumstances it becomes of minor import- 
ance in which of these two ways this second tovrwy was 
intended. In either case the sentence applies to the 
pv0woetdeis, which reach over into the éppuv@mor, and it 
cannot apply to a group that in a concrete form, as sung 
or recited on a particular occasion, is éppuv@uos with 
mathematical precision. As to dppv@uor one hardly 
raises the question; if one does raise it, I should say the 
sentence might well enough apply to them. But a 
given group as sung by one performer might be so per- 
fectly rhythmized that there could be no question of 
_otpoyyvdot or mrepidew, while as recited—and well 


180 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


recited — by another, the listener might hesitate whether 
to call the same group éppv@mos or pul moevdys, and find 
some parts otpoyyvAo and others mepidew. To over- 
look this state of the facts is to misconceive the essential 
nature of rhythm in art. It was to put in the proper light 
such problems as this that so much space in Chapter III 
was given to the subject of rhythm in language. 
Looking now more closely at some details of the 
sentence, we see that the phrases “a@AXov Tod Séovros and 
mnéov » Sei imply a standard of rapidity. That can be 
nothing else than the time —that is proportionate 
time, or ratios between times — demanded by the 
mathematically exact rhythmic pattern. Syllables 
which perceptibly move more rapidly than that are called 
otpoyyvAo; if more slowly, they are called zepim)eq. 
The latter acquire their relative slowness 6a ovv0érev 
pOdyyoav. Now what else can this mean, in application 
to verse, than what Dionysios means by tas Tév ypaypa- 
Tov ovupmroxds? (Op. cit. 16, p. 196 Schaefer.) In 
that chapter he employs a variety of expressions to 
denote the manifold combinations of sounds that lighten, 
hasten, delay, make smooth or harsh, variously expressive 
and fit, the style of verse or prose. Such phrases are 
mapatiels adrAnros TA Sucéehopa (p. 204 Sch.), Ta 
dvcexpopwtata Anerat Kal KaTaTuKVeTE TOUTOLS TAS 
avAraBas (p. 206 Sch.) ; by such means one produces 
avaBoras xpovev (p. 208 Sch.). And we have seen 
(above, p. 175) that he analyzes the phonetic structure of 
the Sisyphos lines on this basis, explaining how and why 
the description of the sufferer’s toil is labored and slow 
in rhythm, and that of the stone’s fall rapid. What 
reason is there for supposing that the two men, or their 
authorities, did not have in view the same phenomena, 
though describing them in slightly different terms ? 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC” FEET 181 


But the difference in terms is really very slight. 
Dionysios calls the ¢pdow of the rapid line evtpoyor Kal 
mepipeph ; oTpoyyvAos means primarily round, spherical ; 
in passage (2) Aristides couples émftpoyo: and otpoyyirou 
as synonyms; «v«dos is a circle, cvedvos round. All 
alike contain the same figure, obtain the meaning rapid 
through the same group of associations, and are applied 
to the same kind of feet and of rhythmic movement. I 
see no ground for assuming a distinction of technical 
significance. Rossbach once took otpoyyvXos and KvKrL0s 
as equivalents; the reasons given for rejecting that view 
(e.g., by J. Caesar, Grundziige d. gr. Rh. p. 98 f.) are 
not cogent. And zrepérdews is merely over-full, that is, 
containing sounds of such character or number or both as 
to require for clear enunciation more time than the 
exact pattern allows. Either they must be unduly 
compressed to crowd them into the interval allowed by 
it, or they retard the tempo a little. The former is 
allowed in singing, as one phase of the fuller tAdoya of 
song; in the speaking voice the ritardando is unavoidable. 
The relation of this to adoyla is obvious. It seems to . 
me therefore entirely natural that some of the rhythmici 
should have extended the class of @Xoryor, as described by 
Aristoxenos, to include under it either the otpoyytAor 
(xvKror or KvKrLOL) Or the meplrdew or both. The 
phenomena themselves were unmistakable; not having 
clearly in mind the single broad principle of rhythmiza- 
tion, the basis of all concrete rhythms in art, they could 
not apply that principle to such phenomena, but sought 
other technical explanations; and this has led to 
distinctions and to precise measurements that are 
illusory 

Citation (2) is in harmony with this interpretation of 
(1). Aristides in this entire chapter is describing the . 


(182 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


ethos of different rhythms. Here he characterizes first 
the differing effects of rapid tempo and of slow tempo, 
the same tempo continuing throughout; then the effects 
of otpoyytAo kal éritpoxot passages and of mepirdew 
passages within a given rhythm, with whose normal 
movement these more rapid or slower passages are 
compared in the mind of listener or spectator. The 
Sisyphos lines are analyzed by Dionysios as an illustration — 
of both these latter effects. Now returning a moment to 
the starting-point of our discussion of “cyclic” feet we 
see that Dionysios was quoting ordinary dactylic and 
anapeestic lines, which when recited or read with 
expression moved a little more rapidly or more slowly 
than the exact ? time. The most rapid of them he does 
not conceive as reduced to % time; no ancient writer, late 
or early, offers any basis fora belief in such dactyls or 
anapests. But the terms orpoyyvros or evKXos (perhaps_ 
KUxdLos) and wepirdkew mark real variations from the 
strict rhythmic pattern, which is nevertheless felt to exist 
underneath the variation, as the norm to which the 
movement constantly tends to return. Among these 
oTpoyyvAo. and trepimAew are to be found one class, at 
least, of the Bpayvrépas Bpayirepar and the pmaxpas 
paxpétepat. The phenomena are no less marked in 
modern English verse than in ancient Greek. Analogues 
in modern dances are frequent, and their ethos is in 
general pretty well described by Aristides. Moreover in 
verse these variations are more pronounced and more 
frequent in reading than in song. In this respect the 
difference between musical and spoken rhythm is really 
considerable, and goes far to account for many things. 
For example it is the slight basis of fact for that far too 
sharp distinction between recitative and melic rhythm 
which so many have insisted on; it explains indeed why 


FOOT, ICTUS, “CYCLIC”? FEET 183 


so many fail to recognize the true character of rhythm 
in modern verse. The departures from the exact pattern 
are so great that they obscure this, unless one not merely 
has a rhythmic sense of at least average delicacy, but has 
in addition trained his consciousness of rhythm and 
acquired some skill in detecting the precise ratios of the 
regular rhythms. To any one so qualified —and most 
people can, if they care to, so qualify themselves — any 
verse that can be called good plainly reveals the exact 
pattern underneath, to which the movement tends to 
conform, and conforms more fully the more the reader, 
whether from the child’s fondness for distinct rhythm or 
from the character of the poetry, approaches in his 


reading to the musical style. 


VI 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 


It is beyond the scope of this volume to set forth in 
detail a complete system of Greek metric; but some 
application of the foregoing principles to the explanation 
of specific meters may fairly be demanded. The so-called 
dactylo-epitritic and logacedic meters are so common, . 
and have been so much the subjects of controversy, that 
no one who writes on metric can ignore the problems 
they offer, whether he believes himself to have completely 
solved their riddles or not. We will consider the two 
briefly in the order named. 

Perhaps the best approach to the former is by way of 
Blass’s view, which rests on a portion of the ancient 
tradition. His view was first published in Fleckeisen’s 
Jahrb. for 1886 (pp. 455 ff.), and is repeated in the 
preface to his Bacchylides (pp. xxix ff.). I will first 
summarize his argument, urging the reader to test my 
summary by turning to Blass’s own pages in one volume 
or the other. 

The name dactylo-epitritic is not ancient, but modern, 
as also the current description of this meter. In the 
- gcholia to Pindar verses of this sort are called Siwerpa 
(tptuetpa) mpocodiaxa, and according to Blass it is the 
invariable teaching of the ancients (constans veterum 
doctrina) that the feet are not dactyls or anapests, but 
choriambs and ionics; the dimeter of the scholia is 
—~vv—luvu—-~-, choriambus and ionic a minore. 
Indications of this view are to be found even in Aris- 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 185 


tophanes and Plato. In the Clouds, Sokrates, who 
professes amongst other arts that of rhythm, rv cep 
pvOuav, is asked by Strepsiades, what is the use of a 
knowledge of rhythm, and replies, 


TpOToV pmev elvat Kourpdv ev cuvovaiga 

> c a > a 4 an 

érraiov? o7roids éott TAY pul mav 

Kata SadxTuAOv Y@Troios av Kat’ évdrrdLOP. 


These two classes of rhythms were therefore both 
well marked and similar. ‘There is also a scholion of 
Hephaistion in which the likeness is put in a clear light: 
Kat évorduov pmev ovv (sc. ézros) éott TO Exov Svo SaxtTUAous 
Kal éva orrovoeiov, olov 


as dato Saxpuyéwvtod & &xdve mrdoTMa wHnTnp. 


That is, there are certain hexameters (e. g., the first of the 
Iliad) which take the form of the évdm)uos, in that they 
have a spondee in the third and sixth places, and there 
alone. These are exactly like Pindar’s Nem. IX 1, 
Kapdoopev rap AmddrdXwvos LuKvwvdle, poicat. ‘These, 
therefore, are true évdém)ot, and this class of meters is 
familiar to us as to the contemporaries of Aristophanes. 
Farther, Plato, Rep. 400 b, speaking of meters of the 
yévos icov, quotes Damon as naming évdmddv tiva 
EvvOerov Kat Sdxtvdov kal hpgev ye. Here we have 
three forms in place of two; the #p@os is now dis- 
tinguished from the simple dactylic. Again, Marius 
Vict. explains the difference between these as follows: 
Differt a dactylo heroum eo, quod et dactylicum [et 
spondiacum] est, et in duas caeditur partes, .. . 
dactylicum enim, licet isdem subsistat pedibus, non 
tamen isdem divisionibus ut herous caeditur versus. 
That is, Blass proceeds — but I must remark that what 
follows is not in Marius Vict. nor in any other ancient — 


186 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


but Blass proceeds, if you divide Il. A 1 not by tripodies, 
piv aede Ged In | Aniddew "AxirAHos, but into three 
dipodies, wjmv dede Ge | & India | dew "AxirAHos, you 
will have dactylic verse instead of heroic, except indeed 
that the spondee in the third foot is less suited to the dac- 
tylic. This, Blass tells. us, is the meter cata dd«rvdovr that 
Aristophanes refers to. But in what particular does the 
évér wos differ from the heroic? ‘The term used by Plato 
in évérdov EvvOerov, which Blass affirms (but on no 
ground that I can discover) cannot signify anything 
composed of equal parts, but must signify something 
composed of diverse parts. If therefore you divide pjvw 
det | 5e Gea IIn | you will have the évdmduos EvvOertos, 
which consists of two parts that are equal in extent, for 
they have each six times, but are very different in form. 
But we have seen, Blass adds, that this is the division 
given by the metrici (i.e., the metrical scholia) to the 
mpocodtaxes. Blass takes mpocodiaxds to be the Aris- 


toxenean name; but as one is enough, he prefers the 


name évd7dLos, testified to by Aristophanes and Plato. 
Baccheios also gives a similar division for the meter 
which he calls évémdos, 6 Tov mitvos orépavoy, this 
consists, he says of iambus, pyrrhic, trochee, iambus 
v—lvul—vliv—l. Marius Vict. also says of the 
kolon —Vvv—vvu—-—, appellatur quadrupes dvade- 
Kdonpmos mepiodos, eo quod quattuor pedes temporum 
duodecim quasi per circuitum quendam recurrentes 
contineat. The feet are —vlu—luvl—vit It 
is clear that these are not doctrines of the vulgar 
metrici, but of the musici, since this word zrepiodos 
belonged to the musici, in the sense of a round of three 
or four unlike feet, as of three trochees and an iambus. 
In this sense Aristides employs it, as well asthe Pindaric 


1 Marius Vict. in Keil’s text puts a spondee in the last place. 


ee eee ee 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 187 


scholia, and also—according to Blass, but in my 
judgment he is mistaken— the Oxyrhynchos fragment 
of Aristoxenos. Whether now you so divide as to make 
four disyllabic feet, or two feet of four syllables each, 
there will always remain that unlikeness of parts that 
Plato’s term £vv@eros demands. It makes no difference 
whether the series begins with arsis or thesis — or rather 
makes only a difference of form, not of real character or 
name. ‘Thus we find the various forms of the enhoplius 
expressed by the formula (¥)—-vu—vuvu—(y). The 
syllable which may be prefixed to the first apparent 
dactyl is generally long, but may be short; so of the 
syllable that may follow the last apparent anapest. 
Finally, in place of choriambus or ionic may stand the 
trochaic or iambic dipody, commonly with one arsis 
prolonged. Thus the scholion to Ol. III v. 2 of str. 
calls the line rpocodi:axév tpiverpov; then on the next 
line, tyvov dp0acais, axayavtordédmv, the description 
given is mpocodvaxdv tpiuerpov KatadnKtixdy ard 
tpoxyaixhs outuylas avtl tod am éddoooves iwuKod. 
This description is obviously correct; for if you take the 
form —Vvv—vv—-— and prolong the third and fifth 


syllables, you obtain ~v—— — v—-; if you take the 
other form ——vv—vv~— and prolong the fourth and 
sixth, the result will be -—_ u_ _ — v __., ete. 


At this point one cannot but ask, Why select precisely 
the third and fifth, or the fourth and sixth, out of the 
eight? By that method any meter can be made to pro- 
duce any other you like; it is indeed the very process 
by which certain grammarians (e. g., Terentianus Maurus, 
1861 ff.) constructed stemmata of meters in complete 
independence of all historical basis. By prolonging the 
second and fifth of the first form you get bacchiic; by 
shortening the fourth and seventh you get paionic; and 


188 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


soon. But this lengthening and shortening of syllables 
means changing ratios and passing from one class of 
rhythms to another. This theory of enhoplii has in fact 
won adherents partly because it seemed to explain a 
great variety of metrical forms. It does so because it 
postulates a common measure that is so protean. Al- 
most any combination of four syllables is a foot, accord- 
ing to this theory. Let us go back and examine our — 
steps, to see where they led us astray. 

First we will take a look at the Aristophanes passage. 
What is Aristophanes doing in that scene? He is show- 
ing how silly and worthless is the teaching of the soph- 
ists. To be able to distinguish what rhythm is cara 
daxtvXov and what is cat’ évdmdov may make one cop- 
gov év avvovcia; it has no other value. Could the 
comedian say more plainly that, in his judgment, for the 
average man at least, distinguishing between rhythms 
kar’ évdrdov and Kara ddetvXov was hair-splitting? The 
adextpvov joke follows immediately. Plainly, the poet 
thinks it no more worth while to distinguish rhythms 
kar évordwov and xara daxtvdov than to violate Greek 
usage by distinguishing the aXextpvev into aréeTwp and 
arextpvawa. The distinction could be made, but seemed 
funny. The two rhythms were to Aristophanes as 
much alike as cock and hen, for which the ordinary. 
Athenian thought one word sufficient,—as we, in 
ordinary speech, have no need to distinguish fish into 
masculine and feminine. 

The scholion to Hephaistion tells us the same in 
another form. The dactylic line, és dato daxpuyéwv rod 
& éxdve wétua pytnp, and plenty of others, contain 
twice each the member —~UU—uUvU—-~—-; such a hex- 
ameter the scholiast says is cat’ évdr\ov. The line does 
not therefore cease to be a dactylic hexameter. It is 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 189 


- merely the first of seven varieties of hexameter to which 
that scholion (p. 167 W.) gives separate names. Nor 
does this scholiast divide the line in any other than our 
ordinary way. He describes it as éyov dvo daxtvnous 
kat éva orovdciov. If these be évdmdo, there is no 
mystery about them. 

Now in the Plato passage what have we? Says 
Socrates, “I think I have heard him name a certain 
évoTdos, a compound, and a dactyl, yes, and a %paos.” 
I do not see the slightest reason for supposing that 
Plato, by the epithet €vv@eros, intended to imply any- 
thing more than the scholion in Hephaistion where he — 
describes the «at’ évémuov ros as having two dactyls 
and a spondee. Aristoxenos would have called the 
half-line a qovs EdvOeros; to him a mods EvvOeros was 
made up of like parts, not of unlike. For example, in 
giving the zroducai Svapopai he says (p. 298 Mor.): of 
dé aovvOerar Tav avvOérwv Siadpépover THO py Siaipeiocbar 
eis 1rddas, Tav avvOérwv Siatpovmevov. What evidence 
have we that Plato meant anything else? 

The remarks of Marius Vict. (p. 70 ff. K.) call for 
a somewhat longer examination. More fully than as 
quoted by Blass they run as follows: ‘The principal 
form of dactylic verse is that which is called the heroic 
line. This differs from the dactylic in this, that the 
heroic line is both dactylic and spondaic, and is divided 
into the two parts mentioned above, the penthemimeres 
and the hephthemimeres. For the dactylic, though it 
consists of the same feet, is on the other hand not 
divided in the same way as the heroic line.” This 
clearly refers to the fact that the dactylic verse of lyric 
poetry appears most commonly in kola of three or four 
entire feet, namely two dactyls and a spondee or three 
dactyls and aspondee; often also in tripodies or tetrapo- 


190 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


dies of pure dactyls. Combinations of such kola pro- 
duce a rhythmical effect and had a musical character 
different from that of the heroic verse, with its pause 
commonly within, instead of just after, the third foot. 
For example, from the parodos of Cid. T.: 


& Avs ddverrés part, Tis ToTe TAS TOAVYpUCOU, 


and 


, 
+ ‘\ / + ids bd / 
el mote Kal mpotépas atas Umrep Opvupevas ToNet 
: Pet 4 > 3 / / / a \ n 
nvicat éxtotriay proya THmaTos, EXeTE Kal viv. 


Here are three dactylic hexameters; but they are in 
effect, taken together, very different from heroic hex- 
ameters. Much more do dactylic verses of three and 
four feet, though still made up of the same feet as the 
heroic verse, differ from it in effect.1. Familiar examples 
are Soph. El. 130-184, or Alkman’s 


Mao” aye, KarXidra, Ovyatep Accs, 
dpy’ épatav éréwy, él & ipepov 
buy Kal yapievra Tier yopdr. 
A little farther on (p. 73 K.) Marius Vict. adds: “ This 
also let me not pass over, as it is worth the notice of an 
educated ear, —a fact observable in the dactylic hex- 
ameter, which will still consist of two dactyls anda 
spondee in each of the two kola. In such a line are 
found the four disyllabic feet, i. e., trochee, iambus, 
pyrthic, spondee, always placed in that order —if you 
choose to scan it in another way than the law of the 
heroic hexameter requires. Such is the Homeric line, 
1So0 Rossbach, Metrik® p. 91, note 1. Compare also Terentianus 
Maurus, 1630f. : 
sed non et sextum [locum] pes hic sibi vindicat umquam, 
nisi quando rhythmum, non metrum, componimus. 
“But this foot (the dactyl) never claims the sixth place too, except 
when we are writing /yric instead of recitative verse.” 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 191 


Zeds 5 Gedy ayopiy troijcato Teprrixépavvos, 
or in Vergil, 
Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. 


And this is called quadrupes dv@dexdonwos repiodos, 
because it contains four feet of twelve times recurring 
as in a sort of regular round.” 

The points to observe here are these. First, our 
grammarian is here dealing with genuine and ordinary 
dactylic hexameters. He is careful to indicate that they 
remain so (cui tamen duo cola e duobus dactylis et 
spondeo constabunt), in spite of this curious fact about 
the four dissyllabic feet discoverable therein. Secondly, 
he gives this expressly as a mere curiosity, of some in- 
terest to a student, but not bearing on the real character 
of the line as a rhythmical form. He takes pains to say 
that the law of the heroic hexameter calls for a different 
division, which that mode of scanning would contravene 
(si velis alias quam hexametri heroi lex postulat scan- 
dere). 

And thirdly, how about the term srepéodos in this 
sense, and the use of it by musici and metrici? It is 
true that Aristides Q.employs the term in this sense, 
that the title of his work is tep/ povowxys, and that in 
his sections on rhythmic he follows in part the doctrine 
of the older musici. On the other hand, he is in his 
metrical teaching distinctly a metricus.!_ In other words 
he is an eclectic, of late date, and every statement of his 
that differs, or appears to differ, from what we know to 
be a doctrine of Aristoxenos must be carefully exam- 


1 “Seine Behandlung der eigentlichen Metrik nimmt auf die 
Rhythmik keine Riicksicht, ist vielmehr, wenn auch nicht in Wider- 
spruch damit, doch in der Aufstellung der Gesetze davon unabhingig.” 
J. Caesar, Grundziige d. Metrik, p. 32. 


192 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


ined, before we can be quite sure to which school it 
belongs. The fact that he employs periodos in this 
sense does not of itself prove that it was so employed 
by Aristoxenos, or by any real musicus. We must look 
elsewhere for evidence. 

At least two meanings of mepiodos were current, and 
our later sources contain, in several versions, definitions 
of the two side by side, as if the compiler were unaware 


that they were two.! For example, Marius Vict. earlier : 


in his treatise (p. 55 K.) says: 

Nam periodus, quae latina interpretatione circuitus vel 
ambitus vocatur, id est compositio pedum trium vel quat- 
tuor vel complurium similium atque absimilium, ad id 
rediens unde exordium sumpsit, sicut temporis lustrum 
vel sacrorum trieteris, dicitur in poematis, quando non 
versus omnes eodem metri genere panguntur, sed ex va- 
Tiis versibus carmen omne compositum per circuitum 
quendam ad ordinem suum decurrit. repéodos dicitur 
omne hexametri versus modum excedens, unde ea quae 
modum et mensuram habent metra dicta sunt. subsis- 
tet autem ex commatis colis et versibus. 

Plainly the first clauses here describe the kind of 
periodus mentioned in the other passage, cited by Blass. 
This periodus consists of a few feet, which may be quite 
dissimilar, forming a sort of round; apparently the more 
unlike the feet, the more interesting the periodus was. 
This round when finished was at once repeated, as the 
combination — vu |v —| uv! ——| in the hexameter des- 
ignated as car’ évdrduov. But the last two sentences 
describe a very different thing. This zrep/odos is longer 


1 For this whole discussion of replodos, cf. Westphal-Gleditsch, Allg. 
Theorie d. gr. Metrik, pp. 177-89, especially the last two pages. Also 
Christ, Metrik, pp. 86-88. The latter’s explanation of the probable 
origin of the later usage, by Aristides Q. and others, appears reason- 
able. 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 193 


than a hexameter, and contains two or more kola, kom- 
mata, or verses. One might fancy for a moment that 
the author intended to differentiate the two senses by 
using the Latin form for one and the Greek form for the 
other; but the other passage, to judge from our MSS., 
forbids that. 

Again in Schol. A. to Hephaistion zrepi troujparos (p. 
218 W.) we find: 

Tlepiodds éote rrodiny év tpicl toot KataplOunos' do- 
mep yap TO mev SaxTuALKOV 7rd Todds peTpEtTat, TA Se bd 
culuyias, TouréaTy Sv0 Today aTAGY, OVTW Kal bd TepLd- 
Sov, ToutéoTe TpLav Today, ws év oulvyia KaTaperpelrat 
dvev apiOwod Tivos wpiapévov, ovK émipepomevns Tivos 
avrtictpégpov, arr’ watrep adiaddpas, ef TUYOL, TpLLeTPOY 
(évra@v) dvo Kal évos TeTpapyérpov Kal wovomérpou Kal é&is 
opolws, advapdpws ovons THs avTod mocdTnTos. Tleplodos 
yap % é« Svadpdpwv K@dwv rrepixoTry, ws év TO Tap >AX- 
kaiw dopatt’ avramddoots yap ylvera ovotnpatixn. 

Though the middle third of this is unintelligible and 
probably mutilated, it is clear that we have here also the. 
same two kinds of zrep/odo, in the same order, with no 
hint that the compiler saw that they were different. 
One consists of a few feet, which constitutes a group 
that is treated as a unit of measurement, parallel in its 
function to the single foot and the dipody. The other 
is a section consisting of several kola. The scholion 
immediately before this has no allusion to the latter, but 
clearly describes the former in the words: Ileplodos 5¢ 
dori 4 éx Siaddpwv today év to otix@ abvOeors, olov 
Saxtvrov tpoyaiov avaraictov idwBov Kal ei Tt ToLOd- 
Tov: akorov0wv pévror dvTav Kal tav é&Hs, olov Kal Td 
mpocodtaxdv éotiv. The sentences of Hephaistion to 
which these scholia refer emphasize the function of this 


mepiooos as a unit of measurement. 
13 


194 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


But this briefer zrep/odos, as far as I can recall, appears 
only in our later authorities, from the time when the 
metrici, speaking broadly, held the whole field. The 
other kind, consisting of two or more kola, appears un- 
mistakably in earlier writers, and in these without a 
rival. Dionysios, in the treatise already cited so often 
(19, pp. 260, 262 Sch.), speaks of Ta KOXa, €& dv éExaortn 
cuvéstnke tepiodos, and tells us that the older melic 
poets, as Alkaios and Sappho, made their strophes small, 
while Stesichoros and Pindar, pe/fous épyacdpevor tas 
qeplodous, els TOAAA wéTpa Kal Ka@Aa Svévermav avTas, OvK 
aAXov Tivos H THS meTaBorrs Epwrt. This has the air of 
being derived from excellent early tradition. The ar- 
gument of Westphal (Metrik, p. 187 f.) is persuasive. 
Suidas tells us that Thrasymachos of Chalkedon wp@ros 
mepiodov Kal K@Aov KaTédelEe Kal TOV VOV pNnTOpLKAS TpdTroV 
eionynoato. ‘These technical terms were certainly not 
invented by him; he introduced them into the theory 


of rhetoric, the younger, from the older and already well: 


developed terminology of music. Though zrep/odos does 
not occur in our fragments of Aristoxenos, it is highly 
probable that he used it in this sense and in this only. 
He had no use for it in the other sense; any group of 
times employed as a measure was to him a movs, simple 
or compound. ‘The passage from the Oxyrhynchos 
fragment runs as follows: 
Td yap movdxpovov oiKeLoTepov TOD TpOYaiKOD H TOD Lapu- 

Bov* otov év T@ 

Bate Bate xeiOev, ai & eis Td rpdcbev dpduevat * 

tis 100’ a veais; ws EvTrpeTrns VV audérel, 
tpeis mrodas Starelrrovaw ai Evvfuylar, wore trepiod@des Tt 


yiyver Oar. 
This can surely not be cited as evidence that Aristox- 


ES 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 195 


enos used zrepéodos in the sense desired by Blass. First 
there is no proof, but only a certain degree of probabil- 
ity, that these fragments are from Aristoxenos. They 
may be from one of those pu@uieoi who followed him in 
many respects, but introduced developments inconsistent 
with his fundamental doctrines. In the mutilated state 
of the papyrus some parts are not yet intelligible; but 
not a little of it seems to harmonize very ill with what 
we already had of Aristoxenos. Secondly, the other 
sense of zrepiodos applies here perfectly. Rhythmically 
the verses are identical with Aisch. Eum. 516-619, 


fa) s Py ‘ bal a A 
TavTa Tis TAY’ av TaTHp H TeKodcAa veoTTAaONS 
olxTov oiktioait’, émevdy titver dduos Sixas. 


No one would hesitate to call the latter a mepiodos, as do 
Rossbach and J. H. Schmidt. And the papyrus gives 
the reason. The triseme — £vvfvyia denoting the union 
of the two usual ypdvor rrodixol into one, a povdypovoy — 
recurs in the place of every fourth foot, marking the end 
of each kolon; the repetition of these kola to the num- 
ber of four — or of three as in Eum. 882 ff., or six as in 
Eum. 998 ff., but most plainly of all with four— inevi- 
tably, if a distinct close or obvious rhythmical change 
then marks the end of the series, produces the impression 
of a larger unit including them all. And that is the 
essence of the vepéodos in the older meaning, which is 
still the usual one among writers on metric. 

The positive grounds advanced by Blass for believing 
his theory of so-called dactylo-epitritic verse to be the 
one current in the classical age have now been critically 
examined and found insufficient. The scholia to Pindar 
generally follow it; the Bacchylides papyrus may show 
the influence of an editor who followed it, though 
that is far from certain; Hephaistion and his scholiast 


196 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


recognize it; but to claim it as the ‘constans veterum 
doctrina’ is to build a structure far too large for its base. 
Even the scholia to Pindar frequently describe lines on 
the other system, as O. Schroeder in his new edition of 
Bergk’s Pindar is forced to admit (App. p. 498). Schroe- 
der offers no explanation of their inconsistency, and 
attributes no value to such scholia as do not make for 


his view. He cites, however, daxtudAuKov tpiwerpov O. 


Vi ep. 6%, Saxrudcov crevOnutmepés passim, and others.! 
But we must go farther, and see whether the theory is 
not inconsistent with fundamental and well-established 
principles taught by Aristoxenos. 

If we look at such a division of the heroic hexameter 
of the car’ évordtov form, what do we find? Does that 
division correspond to any rhythmical fact? Take again 
either of the hexameters used by Marius Victorinus. The 
scheme is —Uuv—uu—-— repeated. Let us hold our 
attention to realities, with as little attention as possible 
to theories. To call the line rhythmical means that it 
exhibits, when spoken, a regular arrangement of times, 
temporum inter se ordo quidam. We wish to ascertain 
and state what that arrangement of times is in this case. 
This arrangement of times, observe, is a matter of spoken 
sounds purely. What arrangement of times appears in 
fact in that series of spoken sounds? Now, when one 
raises clearly that question about any series of sounds, 
he is at once forced to raise the farther question, How 
can we make clear to ourselves and describe to others 
the arrangement of times that we hear? It was by way 


1 Though inclined to ridicule the “recentiores” who assume tetra- 
semes at the end of dactylic kola (p. 498), Schroeder is obliged himself 
to insert tetrasemes pretty freely (p. 503 ff.) to produce the desired ionics 
and choriambs from combinations that on their face have nothing to 
distinguish them from plain dactyls. 


- ii i 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 197 


of answering this last question that Aristoxenos defined 
the foot in the manner already discussed. We must 
find within the series of times a smaller group of times, 
such that by its repetition, perhaps with slight variations 
that do not destroy our sense of the substantial identity 
of the group, it measures off the whole and makes the 
rhythmical character of the whole intelligible. That 
smaller group is a foot; and nothing else is a foot in the 
strict sense, that is, in actual function, though we pro- 
perly apply the general term and give a specific name to 
any group that is potentially a foot, and actually in some 
other series. If in a series of spoken words there is no 
such group that makes itself audible, then that series is 
not rhythmical, or has but a broken and imperfect 
rhythm, —is dppvOyos or puOwoedys. 

Returning now to our hexameters, 


Eleds de Gedy ayophy trounoato Teprrixépavvos, 
Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus, 


what times, expressed in speech sounds, here constitute 
such a smaller group measuring off the whole? If you 
say that the reader, pronouncing the ancient lines with 
a modern theory in mind, puts into them something that 
begs the question, then write the times in musical notes, 
quarter and eighth notes, and let someone play the series 
on a pipe organ, on one key, without use of the swell. 
There can be then no stresses and nothing else to beg the 
question. Then listen, and ask yourself what is, to the 
ear, that smaller measuring group. Only one answer is 
possible. It is the group known as a dactyl, modified in 
two instances to the rhythmically equivalent spondee. 
Remember still that we are dealing with actually spoken 
‘ sounds only, or their musical representatives. When, 
now, anybody divides the written symbols of that series, 


198 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


on paper, so as to produce —v/|v—Ivul_—l, he has 
in no way affected the character of the spoken line. The 
- groups he has made are fictitious; they correspond to 
nothing that can be called a rhythmical fact. He might 
have divided them on paper in half a dozen other ways; 
the scholiast to Hephaistion (p. 205 W.) divides a 
familiar Homeric line so as to make of the syllables, -é67 


mooas @Krs ’AytrArevs, the feet, v—lu v— | vu—|—; © 


this procedure is perfectly parallel to the one in question. 
But the line, when naturally spoken, divides itself to the 
ear in the first way only. The sole real feet there are 
dactyls and. spondees. Marius Vict. appears, in the 
passage we are now considering, to have understood this 
perfectly. He gives that division simply to point out 
the curious numerical combinations, in that such a 
half-line contains just the right number and kind of 
syllables to make, if taken in order and in pairs, simulacra 
of all the disyllabic feet, including the pyrrhic, which 
Aristoxenos does not recognize. ‘That is an interesting 
arithmetical fact, but not properly a rhythmical one. 
The rhythmical facts are those that appeal to the ear, 
and are what we have seen. 

The same principles apply to the related division given 
in the Pindaric scholia. It does not correspond to the 
real feet. That is not so obvious when simple dactylic 
tripodies are alone considered; but when the theory 


produces the groups —vuyu—,vv—v,v—-—, and - 


SP rn SF Aig NY ey TI a, a 
asks us to consider these as parallel, and real feet, we 
cannot but ask, But what then is a foot and what is not? 
The real problem, in the verse exemplified in say Pindar’s 
third Olympian, is to find what are the smaller groups 
that made themselves audible to the Greek ear, as 
measuring off and making intelligible the rhythm, when 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 199 


those lines were sung. It is impossible to bring into 
accord with Aristoxenos’s conception of feet such 
heterogeneous groups as those postulated by the scholia 
to Pindar that Blass makes the basis of his theory.! 
For Pindar’s idea of that verse we must look elsewhere. 

Nothing is better settled in the history of Greek meters 
than that Archilochos combined in one zrepiodos kola of 
different yévn, tcov, and duarAadovov. Whether he invented 
this manner, or merely gave general currency in artistic 
verse to something already familiar in folk-song, need 
not concern us now. The locus classicus on the subject 
is Hephaistion 15 (p. 47 ff. W.); the interpretation of 
this by Rossbach (Metrik,? pp. 865-373) is in general 
convincing, and need not be repeated here. In spite of 
differences of naming, and some uncertainty as to the 
point of division between the members, it was recognized 
down to the latest period that the kola in these cases 
were distinct and not of the same yévos, and that many 
poets continued and developed farther this practice of 
Archilochos. The examples most familiar to modern 
readers are in the epodes of Horace, who follows Archi- 
lochos in making each kolon end with a word-ending, 
though the Greek successors of Archilochos, applying 
the same principles of metrical combination to other 
styles of poetry, often made the division between kola 
divide a word. In one point, however, it is impossible 
to agree with Rossbach,— in the assumption, namely, 
that “the dactylic and anapestic elements pass over 
from the four-timed to the three-timed measurement ” 
(p. 874). Of this our sources give no hint; we have seen 


1 It is not denied, of course, that there was a meter known as évdr- 
Awos, distinguishable from the dactylic hexameter of the kar’ évdmAuoy 
type, distinctly named by Xenophon in Anab., VI 1, 11, and perhaps 
alluded to by Aristophanes, loc. cit. 


200 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


that the assumption of three-timed dactyls and anapeests 
is purely modern. And Rossbach himself adds (p. 379), 
Freilich ist Taktwechsel nicht ausgeschlossen, apparently 
admitting thus the lack of evidence for reduction to 
uniformity. We shall be obliged to return to this point 


later. 
Now, among his examples Hephaistion cites one 


(p.52 W.) from Platon év Bavrpias: 
xaipe Tadaoydvev avdpav Oearav EvrAXNOYe TravTocdpav. 


This he calls 76 kadovpevov IIXatrwuxev, and divides as 
Ta pev éxatépwbev Sto SaxtuvriKa trevOnpiweph TO Se 
pécov iauBiccv, But, as Rossbach points out, a more 
natural division would be, 


RAS AED Moe ees Sp MRO, PRN PARED LAD | CAERG Whe MOS LN atl 


Hephaistion probably preferred the other because that 
brought the line clearly into the class of acvvdprnra, 


and enabled him to follow his inclination to make the. 


members catalectic. He then proceeds: 
*Avreatpappevoy &é éott TovT@ Td TIivdapixdv Karovpevor, 


OS Kal TUTels ayV@ Teréxet TéxeTo EavOav ’AOavar. 
\ \ \ \ \ bd 4 ” fal 
cool dé Kal Td undév dyav eros aivnocay Trepiocc ds. 


Here, too, it is hardly more than a question of convenience 
whether we divide as he would have done or in the 
manner that seems to us more in conformity with the 
natural pey¢?n, namely, 


1 saad ah SAIN: Welsh AGS dees Nah is nh a aad bas 


Here we find, then, a clear description of zrepfodo: con- 
taining, in different arrangements, the most common ele- 
ments of the so-called dactylo-epitritic verse. One of 
the best of the metrici cites them as compound meters, 
consisting of dactylic-anapestic kola and trochaic-iambic 


_— ee 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 201 


kola. One of the combinations is even known as the 
Pindarikon ; which indicates that this form was closely 
associated with the poet who is to us the chief represen- 
tative of this class of meters. Here is a tradition of at 
least equal value, as tradition, with the one urged by 
Blass; and while that other harmonizes neither with the 
teaching of Aristoxenos nor with our sense of rhythm, 
this harmonizes with both! This treatment also pre- 
serves and makes obvious, while the other conceals, the 
kinship between this particular combination and other 
combinations of similar elements. The numerous forms 
described by Rossbach, Metrik®, pp. 878-390, are of un- 
mistakable character. Why take as our oracle some 
late anonymous scholiast, and accept from him a method 
that runs counter to natural affinities, when Hephaistion 
offers a method so rational and natural? That is a new 
version of the principle of the difficilior lectio. 

By the method of Hephaistion, then, we analyze into 
kola which are all familiar in endless combinations in 
other meters of their separate classes. On the one side, 
in the even class, the prevailing element is the dactylic 
tripody, either complete or ending on the thesis; dipodies 
and tetrapodies are mingled sparingly with these. In one 
particular the dactylic groups retain an older character 
than the Homeric hexameter, in that each foot but the 
last of the group is a pure dactyl, while the last is 
always a spondee, or a simple thesis, which is commonly 
prolonged. Thus the groups are always clearly sepa- 
rated from each other and from those of the other class. 
In the iambic class the primary element is the dipody, 


1 Discussing another form (p. 48f. W.), 
SOE antiet NP NP: etl NP NA Sete NF cess GP Ss) MS ses 
Hephaistion mentions with some disapproval the application of the 
mpogodiaxds theory to the first member. _ 


202 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


predominantly of three long syllables and one short. 
These elements, dactylic and trochaic-spondaic, are com- 
bined in various ways into mepiodor; which exhibit 


generally a degree of symmetry that corresponds, in _ 


rhythm, to what we find in the monuments of the 
plastic and graphic arts from the same period of Greek 
life. There is, however, no necessity for entering here 


into details on this subject, nor for considering the varia-. 


tions introduced, as the prefixed arsis, nor for examining 
the question of anapeestic and iambic division in such 
cases, instead of dactylic and trochaic, nor for investigat- 
ing the question of how far we may assume “eurythmy” 
and prolonged theses. But the question of time cannot 
be avoided. 

It has already been sufficiently emphasized that there 
is in ancient tradition no warrant whatever for the three- 
timed measurement of dactylic or anapeestic verse. The 
readiness with which that measurement has been accepted 
is apparently due largely to a mere accident. Modern 
imitations of such verse, from the character of the lan- 
guages in which they are written, are almost invaria- 
bly in triple time, and hence it has been the prevailing 
practice in schools to read the Greek and Latin origi- 
nals in the same way. ‘The unconscious effect of 
that state of things is very great.! But the influence 
needs only to be recognized; it has no place in argu- 
ment. In the present case the only serious problem 
remaining is, What was done with the trochaic-iambic 
element? ‘The possible answers reduce to two classes. 

A. There was no equalization of time between the two 


1 We even hear people speak of the impossibility of our reading 
ancient verse in even time. It has been proved by repeated experi- 
ment that there is no serious difficulty in taking an average class and 
teaching every member of it to read Homer so, 


—e 
- 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 202 


elements. That involves a frequent change of time in 
passing from one to the other; one trochee or iambus of 
the usual dipody was rational, the other irrational, pre- 
cisely as in other iambic or trochaic verse. Sometimes 
both feet of the dipody are of the normal rational type. 

B. The trochaic element was conformed in duration 
to the dactylic. Here are three possibilities for the tro- 
chee or iambus. (1) Westphal’s view, that by change 
of tempo from measure to measure a trochee was made 
equal in total duration to a dactyl or spondee, and its 
long twice the length of its short, a third longer than 
the long of the dactyl. (2) J. H. Schmidt’s view (from 
K. Lehrs and J. H. Voss), that the long of the pure 
trochee was made thrice the length of its short. (8) 
That the short was made irrational, the longs being all 
equal; the effect would be a slight accelerando on each 
pure trochee or iambus. 

The argument from Aristides Q. (p. 99 Mb.) in favor 
of equalization of feet between the two elements? is irre- 
futable so far as this: it compels us to reject any suppo- 
sition that involves so marked a change, in passing from 
one element to another, that the listener could say of the 
rhythm, Biaiws avOérAKet THY Woynv, weraBdrXov €F évds 
eis Erepov yévos. For this rhythm in Pindar and the 
tragedians is clearly of the javyaorixds tpdros. This 
argument does not, however, exclude the irregularity 
produced by irrational arses, which appear in other 
meters of the same tpdzros, as in the calmly reflective or 
deeply religious trochaic and iambic strophes of Aischy- 
los. Nor does it exclude the possibility that a kolon of 
say two dipodies of pure trochees, occurring amid kola of 


1 Rossbach, Metrik®, p. 426. This whole section, pp. 425-436, is a 
model of fair and calm presentation, though certain errors in the 
premises vitiate the conclusion. 


204 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


the even class, may have exhibited a complete change to 
the uneven class, and been rendered in triple time. The 
practice of combining in one strophe kola of different 
classes being established beyond question, in Archilo- 
chos and many successors and in various styles, what is 
the natural presumption in such a case as Aisch. Ag., 
123 = 144, or 175f=183{? Within the great dactylic 


strophe, just before the refrain, aiduvov alduvov elm, To 8 © 


ev vixdtw, stands the single line PrAaBerta AoicO lov 
Spéwev, and in the antistrophe otuyet 5€ detrvoy aierav. 
The boundless resources of modern harmony, from 
which chiefly our music derives its richness and variety, 
were not available; all the more did the ancient musi- 
cian use to the utmost the available resources of melody 
and rhythm. The artistic importance of pis and pera- 
Born is repeatedly emphasized in our sources, as in the 
sentence from Dionysios Hal. quoted above (p. 194). 
This shift of yévos for a simple kolon seems under all 
the circumstances so natural that only strong positive 
evidence could justify us in deciding against it. Of such 
evidence there is none, so far as I know; our mere ex- 
pectation, derived from modern music,’ that the same 
time-signature (yévos ) should be observed to the end of 
the movement or strophe, is wholly insufficient. So in 
the next strophe of the Agamemnon, in the midst of a 


1 Indeed modern music of the highest class makes frequent, and 
apparently increasing, use of the same freedom, Out of many examples 
I note two only, both from religious music, of the jovxacrixds tpdmos. 
In Rossini’s Stabat Mater the words “in amando Christum Deum” (in 
No. 5) are set in $ time amid # time; in Parker’s Hora Novissima a simi- 
lar change is introduced in the bass aria, “Spe modo vivitur.” The 
second example is a very striking as well as beautiful piece of rhythm. 
One measure of ¢ time is followed by one of } time; this pair is four 
times repeated, and then follows one measure each of }, ¢, and 2 time; 
next come eight measures again of alternating ¢ and } time, succeeded 
by three measures of § time. 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 205 


rhythm otherwise trochaic of the strict type, the kolon 
next to the last is wAv Avds et TO wadtav ard dpovridos 
aos; in the antistrophe, Zva 8¢ T1§ rpodpdvas érivixia 
krAdfov. In form this pentapody recalls for a moment 
the dactylic triad with which the whole choral song 
began ; the refrain of each member was there a dactylic 
pentapody. As that triad by an occasional trochaic 
element, becoming more frequent in the epode, looks 
forward to the movement of the following strophe, so 
here a single dactylic kolon resumes the earlier move- 
ment. The artistic intention seems obvious, the effect a 
fine bit of what we may call rhythmic harmony; this is 
obscured and nearly thrown away by the unwarranted 
assumption of equality of feet throughout the strophe. 
The shift of yévos to that extent, instead of interfering 
with unity of expression in the j0vyaorixos Tpdmos, may 
even be made to strengthen it, and may contribute much 
to enhance the power of the whole. This conclusion 
applies to the strophes of Pindar as well. A dipody of 
pure trochees may have been rendered in triple time; a 
dimeter of pure trochees was probably rendered so, 
though surrounded by dactylic and spondaic elements in 
even time. : 

It does not follow, however, that these trochaic 
measures were treated as Westphal believed, each foot 
being made equal in total duration to a dactyl or spondee, 
each syllable a third longer than a syllable of the same 
sort in the dactyl. That is certainly not the natural 
and usual procedure in modern music when a change of 
time-signature occurs. Unless there is a special reason 
for a distinct change of tempo, and a special indication 
of this change from the composer, one rather makes the 
individual notes under each time-signature equal to 
those of the same name under the other, the measures 


— 206 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


thus falling out unequal in total duration. That is what 
is done with the examples cited above (p. 204, note) 
and others like them. For kola of the kind we have 
just been considering, Westphal’s assumption is wholly 
without support. For mixed kola, in which the syllabic 
form is trochaic-spondaic, that theory postulates a mode 
of rendering that is for us moderns extraordinarily diffi- 


cult, — so difficult that we demand the strongest kind of . 


evidence before we can believe it to have been natural to 
the ancients. 

Westphal relied much (Rhythmik?® p. 289 ff.) on the 
example of Bach, who wrote one prelude (Well-tempered 
Clav., II 5, in D major) in an analogous manner. I say 
analogous, not identical, because in that composition the 
shift does not occur so often as Westphal’s theory 
requires for the trochaic-spondaic dipody in the dactylo- 
epitritic, or for logacedic verse, in which also Westphal 
assumes the same treatment. In Bach’s prelude the 
shift occurs, it is true, in each measure; but each of 
Bach’s measures corresponds to a kolon of four simple 
feet in the Greek meter. That offers a much easier 
problem for the performer than Westphal proposes for 
the Greek. Yet it is noteworthy that Bach himself, 
great and original master as he was in musical rhythm, 
never repeated the experiment; nor has any successor, so 
far as Westphal could discover, followed the example. 
Still farther, the difficulty of playing that prelude as the 
composer wrote it is so great that editors usually print it, 
as Westphal complains, in an easier rhythm, reducing the 
measures in common time to 12 time. I do not see then 
how this experiment of Bach makes at all for Westphal’s 
view. 

Nor can we recognize as valid that scholar’s version of 
the principle that the long syllable is always twice the 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 207 


length of the short, in which he found one main ground 
for this shift of tempo. To him that principle, applied 
only to verse that was sung, stood in close relation to his 
sharp separation of sung from spoken verse. That sepa- 
ration we have found did not exist, and this weakens his 
case here materially. But still farther, in verse that was 
sung Westphal recognized fully, as every one must, the 
triseme and tetraseme that result from catalexis; he 
recognized also the irrational syllable, though he wrongly 
assigned to it the exact value of one and one-half the 
length of an adjacent short. Here surely is a wide 
breach in the universality of thatrule. Accepting these, 
one can no longer appeal to the rule of two to one as 
universal. The sentence of Aristoxenos on which chiefly 
Westphal relied for that rule (Rhythmik’, p. 286 ff.) he 
considered to be incomplete, since two proven exceptions 
are not mentioned there. The fact seems rather to be 
this: That sentence, which we have only in the Pro- 
lambanomena of Psellos, occured in an early part of the 
treatise, where Aristoxenos was defending his innovation 
of taking as the measure, not the syllable, but the ypdvos 
mpatos. He was emphasizing, therefore, the variability of 
syllables, and their unsuitableness to serve as a measure. 
As subordinate to that, his main point, the text admits 
that syllables have indeed the same ratio of magnitudes, 
the short syllable being half the length of the long; but 
the author maintains that this is not enough of constancy 
to justify the adoption of the syllable as the measure. 
The text is: 

“H dé cvAraBH ypdvov tivds pérpov ovoa ovK Hpepel 
Kata Tov ypdvov, peyeOn yap xpdvev ovK ael TA adTa 
Katéxovol ai ovArAaBai,—Adyov pévror Tov avTov del 
Tav peyeOav: nutov pev yap Katéyev THY Bpayeiav 
xpovov Sirddovoy Sé tiv pwaxpdv. (Frag. 1 ap. Psell.) 


208 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


Here is no sign of an incomplete sentence. Yet the 
exceptions noted are beyond question. At least two ex- 
planations are possible besides the one adopted by West- 
phal. First, Aristoxenos may have thought it sufficient, 
in a logically subordinate part of a very brief statement, 
to give merely the well-known general rule, without stop- 
ping to mention exceptions which were also well-known, 
and which later in the treatise he was to explain fully. 
Or, secondly, the words from Adyov pévros on may be 
not those of Aristoxenos but of his excerptor and 
commentator, who does not hesitate to mingle his own 
phraseology with his quotations. ‘These words have no 
bearing on the point Aristoxenos made; so far as they 
go they are against it, and sound like the addition of one 
who would be more exact than his master. But we have 
too little evidence to settle the question, nor does it 
really affect our argument. Between catalexis, irratio- 
nality, and the ypdvor ris pvOuorrorias idcor there is 
abundant room in the system of Aristoxenos for another 
method of rhythmization in this meter than the one 
defended by Westphal. _ 

And in fact the proper statement of the real problem 
is this: How did the Greeks in singing rhythmize these 
syllabic combinations? ‘The precise ratio of two to one, 
the common ratio between the long and short, cannot 
have been strictly observed throughout; the pure tro- 
chees (or iambi) must have involved some form of 
departure from it.! Quite apart from the lack of evi- 
dence for three-timed dactyls, we must still say that the 
trochees were somehow rhythmized under the influence 

1 One might be inclined to assume the mode of rendering which is 
illustrated in the passage cited from Parker’s Hora Novissima; but 
that would be, in ancient terminology, either dochmiac or else (for the 


most part) feet of the Adyos érirpiros employed in continuous rhythmo- 
poiia, both of which are definitely excluded. 







ZV BR ARys 

af OF THE 
( UNIVERSITY’ ] 
\ OF / 


~ 
~*~ -AA LIT 
= : 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 209 


of the dactyls and spondees, not these under the influ- 
ence of the trochees. In tragic dialogue, where the foot 
of two long syllables constitutes distinctly less than half 
the average line, and never closes it, the obvious prepon- 
derance of three-timed feet led the speaker to reduce the 
time of the apparent spondee, approximating it to the 
other by making one long irrational. The situation was 
essentially the same in the trochaic tetrameter, and in 
‘other trochaic and iambic meters. But here, in the 
dipodies which externally resemble those of the tragic 
trimeter and the trochaic tetrameter, the spondee ordi- 
narily ends the kolon, and often the line and periodos. 
That fact alone goes far to indicate a spondaic instead 
of a trochaic movement. And then the proportion of 
the two classes is reversed, and more than reversed. 
One must start with a strong prepossession indeed in 
favor of three-timed rhythms to suppose that one tro- 
chee to three or four dactyls and spondees could regulate 
the whole, reducing all to trochaic time. Assuming, 
then, that a purely trochaic dimeter, perhaps even a 
dipody, may have kept its own triple time, we cannot 
suppose a single trochee, isolated among dactyls and 
spondees, to have been wholly unaffected by its neigh- 
bors. The universal rhythmizing impulse must have 
made itself felt in some degree on such a trochee. This 
brings us to the last two possibilities of the above tabu- 
lation; was the trochee made --v or —>? 

A categorical answer seems at present impossible. The 
evidence appears to me about as follows. To begin with, 
the foot - v is not admitted by Aristoxenos among 
those capable of continuous rhythmopoiia: trav dé rodév 
Kal cuveyh puOporroiiav émideyopuévov tpla yévn éotl, Td 
Te OaxTuALKOV Kal TO iapBiKdv Kal TO Tratwrikdy (p. 800 


Mor.). This is an additional argument against a whole 


14 


210 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


kolon, or even a dipody, of such feet. But according to 
frag. 9 from Psellos, single feet of that type mingled with 
others were admitted by Aristoxenos: yiveras S5¢ morte 
Tous év TpiTAacio Ady@, yiverat Kal év érritpito. When, 
therefore, after telling us (p. 802 Mor.) that the feet év 
TeTpaonw@ peyé0e are dactylic, Aristoxenos adds, as the 
reason, that in the number four two ratios are possible, 
namely 2:2 and 1:3, oy o wév Tod TpLTAacioU OvK EvpvO= | 
pos é€oriv, We must understand him to mean by ov« ép- 
pvOuos not employed continuously. And in fact he is at 
this point simply enumerating and describing the three 
yévn which he has just said are thus continuously em- 
ployed. Elsewhere he uses évpu@uos in a broader sense; 
for example, enumerating the differences between feet 
(p. 298 Mor.), he says that one foot differs from another 
in yévos when their ratios differ, as when one has the 
ratio of equality, another that of 1:2, 0 dé aAXov twa 
Tav évpv0 uwv ypdvev. The last phrase distinctly implies, 
as characterizing a foot, more than one évpv@uos ratio 
besides those of equality and of 1: 2; among these others 
must be included that of 1:8 as well as that of 2:3. 
One illustration of an isolated foot év tpimracio Ady@ 
and év émitpit@ occurs rather often in lyric iambics. 
Aisch. Eum. 553 f. reads, 


Exav © avdyxas drep Sixavos dv 
ovK avorNBos éorat. 


The scheme is v—~ VL vv vuLIe vi vut_, 
Here are three occurrences of the form vw —ut. To 
a Greek this was an iambic dipody ; but by Evvfvy/ia—to 
use the term of the Oxyrhynchos papyrus—the second 
iambus becomes ut, év tpirracio Ady@, and the 
whole dipody as a £v@eros rots is év émitpitrm. The 
names of the feet, as syllabic combinations, were 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 211 


apparently unchanged; but the ypovor ris pu? uororlas 
tot produce these ratios, which are évpv@uo., but are 
not employed continuously and cannot occur in imme- 
diate succession. ‘This, I say, constitutes one illustra- 
tion of the foot in the ratio of 1:38, and we have 
no reason for assuming that it was the only one. The 
single trochee among dactyls and spondees may well 
have been another. The frequency of such measures in 
modern music makes this seem to us the more natural 
answer to our question; in actual reading we more 
readily answer the question practically in this way than 
in the other. Analogies in English verse also look that 
way. ‘The example which I cited sixteen years ago is as 
good now as then. In Emerson’s little poem, The 
Rhodora, the closing lines are: 


I never thought to ask; I never knew, 

But in my simple ignorance suppose, 

The self-same Power that brought me there 
brought you. 


By the preponderance of strong and long syllables the 
last verse in natural reading passes over from triple 
to even time. The only syllables that remain strictly 
short are the and that; the second of these is made one- 
third as long as the syllable Pow’r, the whole scheme being 
vt_rvt—t_—-_/, Such feet are by no means rare 
in English. Browning’s Cavalier’s song, Give a Rouse, 
contains several. 

But .it must be admitted that these considerations 
taken together do not amount to proof. It is possible 
the trochee in that situation was made irrational. Indeed 
I see no reason for excluding the possibility that indi- 
vidual examples may have differed somewhat, according 
to their phonetic constitution. If the long consisted of 


212 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


a diphthong followed by two or three consonants, the 
short being merely a single vowel, such a foot may have 
taken naturally the form --v, while another trochee, in 
which the long consisted of a single long vowel and one 
consonant, the short consisting of a short vowel plus a 
mute and liquid, may have taken the form—>. In 
either case it is not unlikely that the trochee would be 


felt as otpoyytAos —so far as a single foot could be so — 


— because required by collocation to fill more time than 
two such syllables ordinarily did fill. 

Though Hephaistion gives names for specific combina- 
tions in this meter, as Platonikon and Pindarikon, and 
classes them all under the general name émucdvOera or 
compound, we have no ancient term of the precise extent 
which we include under: dactylo-epitritic. That is 
unfortunate ; the name is not only modern but clumsy, 
and seems to carry with it the false theory in which it 
originated, that the element — v — — is really émirpiros 
in ratio. Doric is still more inappropriate. We might 
extend Hephaistion’s term Pindaric to this sense; but 
that would lead to ambiguities. At present, therefore, 
nothing better than dactylo-epitritic is available, in cases 
where something more specific than the term compound 
is required. 

The meters that have been generally grouped under 
the term logacedic involve so many serious difficulties 
that no one will look for a complete solution of these 
here. As to more than one form, after careful examina- 
tion of the evidence, one may without blushing adopt 
the confession of T. R(einach), who, in his review of 
Masqueray’s Traité de métrique grecque (Rev. d. Et. gr. 
1899, p. 422), speaks of “le glyconien, que M. M. ni moi 


ne savons scander.” My present aim is to indicate the 


line along which I believe solutions are to be sought, 


ale 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 218 


and to show why they are not to be sought along certain 
other lines. We will approach the subject by way of 
the ancient tradition. One principle of method must, 
however, be emphasized first. It will not do to take one 
part of the tradition, isolate it from the rest, and build 
on that as if it were the whole. So stated, the principle 
is obvious enough ; but it has often been disregarded in 
the treatment of logacedic verse, as we have seen that it 
has been disregarded in the treatment of the elegiac and 
the dactylo-epitritic. 

A part of the tradition which at present appears to be 
in high favor is found in Aristides Q., p. 35 ff. Mb., from 
which I will quote, translate and summarize, so far as is 
needful for clear presentation. First the following 
introductory paragraph: 

Tav pvOuav toivyy of pe eiot cvtvOero, of 88 
aovvOerot, of Sé puxtol> atvOeror pev of ex Svo yevav 
] Kal TrELdvOV cuVEeoTaTES, WS of Swdexdonpol, aovvOeToL 
5é of Evi yéver TrodiK@ ypw@pevol, WS ol TeTPdonMOoL, pLKTOL 
dé of more pev els xypdvous, more dé eis puOuods 
avaruopevot, os of EEdonuot. Tav 5é cuvOérwv of pév 
eiot Kata cutuylav, of S¢ Kata teplodov. Kata ovbuyi- 
av’ pev ovv éote dv0 Trodav aTAOY Kal avopolwy civleats, 
mepiodos 5é mredveov. 

According to Aristides, then, among otv@eror puOyuol, 
made up of feet of two or more yévn, are certain ones 
known as of dwdexdonuot. Also, the ovvGeror are com- 
pounded in two ways,—«aTa cvtuylav, combining two 
simple and unlike feet, and xara mepiodov, combining 
more than two feet. It is clear that ovv@ero is here 
used in a narrower and more special sense than that of 
the same word in the phraseology of Aristoxenos when 
he speaks of wdédes ctvOero.; also that this zreplodos is 
the later and apparently non-Aristoxenean one. It may 


214 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


be noted farther that in the next paragraph, on the 
SaxtTuAtxov yévos, the pyrrhic is included, under the name 
amos mpoxerevopatixes, that avaraotos add pelfovos 
is made the equivalent of ddxrvdos, and that the ionic 
amd pelCovos and am’ éddaocovos are also included under 
the dactylic class and are treated as ovvOerot Kata 
cutuvyiav, compounded of spondee and pyrrhic. Aristox- 
enos, however, rules out the pyrrhic and classes the 


ionic under the dirArdovov yévos. As regards the ° 


six-timed feet this difference of school goes pretty deep, 
and of itself renders impossible the belief that Aristides 
is here substantially reproducing Aristoxenos. 

The next section is on the faywfixov yévos. Here 
(besides simple iambus and trochee) are mentioned under 
owlero. Kata ovbuyiay two Baxyeioa: v—|l—v, of 
iambus and trochee, and —u|wuv—, of trochee and 
iambus. To these are added twelve ovvOeror xara 
meptodov. Aristides’ description of these can be most 
simply given in the following schemes. First come four 
consisting of one iambus and three trochees, constituted 
and named as follows: 


1 v—l—vl—vi—v  tpoyaios ard iauBov, 
2. —vlw—l—vl—v_ tpoyaios amd Baxyeiov, 
8 —vi—-viv—l—v = Baxyeios ard tpoxaiov, 
4. —~vl—vl—vlv— = tapBos éritpiros. 


Then follow four consisting of one trochee and three 


5 —vlyu—lu—lvu— tapos aro rpoyaiov, 

6 vi—levlu—lu— tapos ard Baxyeiov 7 
pécos Baxyeios, 

7 vw-lyu—le-vlvu— = Bakxeios ard idpBov, 

8 v—ly—lyu—l—vw = tpoxaios émizpitos. 


EE ——— a 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 915 


The rest have two trochees and two iambi, namely 


9 vi—lyu—l—~vl—v  amrots Baxyeios amo 
iduBou, 
10. —vl—vlvu—lu— = amnrois Baxyxeios ard 
Tpoxaiou, 
11, —~vlvu—lvu—l—v — pécos iapBos, 
12 v—l—vi-vlv— _ pécos tpoyxaios. 


As combinations of syllables it is clear that numbers 
4, 5, 6, 10, 12, are identical with some of the forms 
which we know as glyconic; 6 and 10 together, for 
example, contain the same succession of longs and shorts 
that we see in the words tov apyjta Kodrwvov &0 & 
Aiyera puvdperat. Accordingly Henri Weil, in the 
Revue Critique VI (1872), p. 51 ff., accepts this passage 
of Aristides without reserve as the basis for the true 
explanation of such verses. His explanation has been 
widely adopted, as by Masqueray in his recent Traité de 
métrique, and by Gleditsch in reviewing that book (Berl. - 
Phil. Woch. 1900, Sp. 182 ff.). 

But several queries suggest themselves. In the first 
place, What shall we do with those forms of the glyconic 
that the scheme of Aristides does not include? For 
example, that contains no form beginning with two long 
syllables. Arithmetically the scheme is complete, cover- 
ing all possible combinations of trochees and iambi, one 
to three of each kind and four in all; but it makes no 
provision for an initial spondee, which the majority of 
glyconics have. In the article cited, Weil does not even 
allude to this discrepancy ; but a sentence on p. 51 seems 
to imply that he regards the irrational long as solving 
the difficulty. Yet he insists (p. 52), Conformément 4 
cette tradition nous conservons 4 toutes les syllabes du 
métre glyconique leur valeur naturelle: nous n’y admet- 


216 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


tons pas de dactyle équivalant & un trochée, ni de longue 
finale de trois temps. Now Aristides no more allows 
irrational longs in these dwdexdonwor, than he does 


trisemes; one irrational long would make the periodos - 


thirteen-timed for him, as much asa triseme would. For, 
although in his rhythmical section he describes irrational 


feet, yet in the metrical section, when actually enumerat- 


ing the feet and times of specific series, he nowhere 
takes the irrational syllable into account. For example, 
in describing iambic verse (p. 53 Mb.) he follows the 


ordinary “ metrical” method, admitting dactyl, anapzst, — 7 


and spondee, with no hint that these are irrational ; and 
in enumerating the feet (p. 48 f. Mb.) the combination 
of iambus or trochee plus spondee is called ézézprros, 
érel ouvéotnkey éx TrodaY Adyov éydvTwy éritpLTOV, OV 
éyer Téccapa Tpos Tpia* oO méev yap TaY SicvAAdBwv év 
avT@ tplonuos o S€ tetpdonuos. In short, wherever he 
counts up the times of feet in such a way that we can 


test him, he counts on the “‘ metrical” basis. It is there-. 


fore reasonably certain that these twelve-timed periods 
are so named on that basis, which excludes the irrational 
syllable. It is clear that the system was in his view 
complete, and that it does not cover the commonest 
forms of glyconic verse, but only some of the less com- 
mon. Is it not a fair conclusion that he was not here 
trying to describe the glyconic at all? Still less can we 
suppose him to have intended here to give the key to 
the countless variety of forms called logacedic, so few of 
which are even approximated by his scheme. Take, for 
example, stanzas like those in Soph. Phil., 169-190. The 
strophes are of a common type, glyconic lines mingled with 
nearly related forms; but only one line, voce? pév vdcov 
aypiav, is clearly accounted for by this system, which 
has no place at all either for the antistrophic line 





Se 
ee 
— 


eS lL ee ee oe 


an 


ee ee ee ee ee ae 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 217 


corresponding to the one quoted, or for the lines that 
immediately follow and are closely akin to these, adver 
& él wavri tm xpelas iotapéva. TAS Tote, TAS 
Svcpopos avréyet; @ Taddpuat Pedy. A hypothesis that 
explains but a small part of the phenomena is seriously 
defective. Precisely what verse or music Aristides did 
have in mind here I do not know, nor how far he believed 
his scheme to be related to concrete examples. The 
arithmetical completeness of it awakens the suspicion 
that as a whole it is mainly an arithmetical fancy; yet 
I would by no means deny that ancient music may have 
contained all these combinations. But in that case we 
should surely follow Aristides himself in dividing the 
series, making each twelve-timed periodos correspond to 
one modern measure in 12 time. Why does Weil make 
the line above quoted, tov dpyfra Korwvov &v? a riyera 
puvodperat, consist of one 12 measure preceded by a seven- 
timed and followed by a five-timed incomplete measure ? 

For the genuine character and early date of the general 
theory Weil relies much on the passage of Aristides (p. 
98 f. Mb.) on the ethos of various rhythms. These 
owvGeror are there said to be ra@ntixwrepo as compared 
with the ddoi,-—7orAd 7d Tapayades émihalvortes. 
Most of all is this true of those 8a mrAedvav 4dn 
cuvestates puluav* relay yap év adtois 4 avopania, 
This description is eminently true of the rhythms 
described. A musical composition in such a rhythm 
would seem to us, precisely as to Aristides, highly emo- 
tional; the recurring syncopations produce an effect of 
greatagitation. Butdoes thatagree with the character of. 
logacedic verse in general, or of glyconic verse in particu- 
lar? Such a rhythm would in most cases be quite out 
of harmony with the content. It is a rhythm that would 
be not inappropriate where the tragedians employ the 


218 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


dochmiac, —less agitated than that, but approximating 
it. But Sophokles uses the logacedic as a meter of all 
work, varying the form infinitely to suit the content; but 
in him and all the Greek poets glyconic verses are com- 
paratively equable and calm, — charged with emotion, it 
is true, as all lyric verse is, but not moAvd 70 tapaxades 
émipatvovres. 

And then, whether we take Weil’s or Masqueray’s method 
of division, we must raise again the question whether 
that system harmonizes with the Aristoxenean notion of 
a foot. Masqueray gives the series —-—— v | v—v — | 
—~v—vlu—v-—l. Itis hard to believe that Aristox- 
enos would have said of these combinations, tovrots Tots 
jmoolt onpatvouela Tov pvOuov Kal yv@plimov Trotodpev TH 
aicOyoe. In our musical system such measures, not 
occurring too often, are unified by the regular beating of 
time; occurring in ancient music occasionally, as ypovoe 
THs pvOporrotias tévot, they would be unified in the same 
way, being constantly referred mentally to the ypdvor 
moditcot. But it is incredible that such combinations, in 
so complicated alternation and succession, were accepted 
as the regular ypdévor rrodicof through whole strophes 
and long poems. It seems to me far more likely that 
Aristides is here following purely “ metrical” theory of 
the later type, treating series of syllables, long and short, 
without taking into account the true rhythmical character 
as actually rendered. We have seen above (p. 190 f.) 
how Marius Vict. treats one form of the dvwdexdonpor 
mepiodor, —as merely a curious way of dividing a dactylic 
tripody. He was evidently familiar with the system 
and may be presumed to have understood it. Yet it is 
possible — p. 98 f. certainly looks that way — that Aris- 
tides is describing real phenomena that were occasionally 
met with in music, particularly instrumental. 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS - 219 


But above all one asks, Are there other ancient 
descriptions of such verse? Is it true that the theory of 
Aristides “ von simtlichen griechischen Metrikern geteilt 
wird,” as Weil maintained ? 

Hephaistion 10 and the scholia thereto (pp. 32-35 and 
183-189 W.) constitute an interesting document that 
contains much in common with Aristides Q. 37, with 
additions and subtractions. Instead of the srepiéodos 
dadexdonuwos the antispasts v——v is now made the 
key to a variety of meters. The opening paragraph is: 

To aytictactiKoy tiv pev tpetnv avbvylav eye 
TpeTo“evnv KaTa Tov TpdTepov mdda eis TA TéccAapa TOD 
SucvArdBov oynpatas tas Sé ev péow, Kalapas 
avtiotactiKds* thy 6 TerevTalay omdre éotiv 
akataddnkrov, iapBuenv:  éav 6€ advaploynrar ais 
iapBixais, ov pdvov Thy mpa@rnv cvbuylav ever Tperropevnv 
Kata Tov mpdTepov dda, GAA Kal THY Tals lapPiKais 
érropevnv. ott Se Ste Kal AveTaL O MpdTEpos rods els 
tplBpayuv. 

Then follows a list, with examples, of the noteworthy 
forms. 

1. The wevOnpipeps, the so-called dochmiac, 
KrAve palera vV—— Yl — 
2. The ébOnptpepés, the so-called pherecratic, 
avdpes mpdoxyete TOV voov. ———vlu—— 

8. The dimeter acatalectic, the so-called glyconic, 

Kdmpos Hvix’ o pawvddns, ete. YO—Y|yu—v— 
4, Dimeter hypercatalectic, or nine-syllabled sapphic, 

kal kvicon Twa Ovuinoas. ——-—vlu—v—I¥ 
5. Trimeter catalectic, with only the first measure 
antispastic, the rest iambic,—the daraixevor, 

xaip’ & ypuadcepws, BdBaxta, Kyrov, ete. 


SOAS ine pid Lt diego 


220 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


6. Trimeter acatalectic, or aoxAnmiddeor, 

mrGes é€x Trepadtav yas, édadavtivay, etc. 
7. Twelve-syllabled alcaic, of which the middle foot 
is antispastic but admits in the first two places any of the 
four disyllabic feet; this is preceded and followed by an 
iambic dipody, the former admitting a spondee at the 
beginning, 

KOAT@ Oo edéEavl” dyval Xadpites Kpdve. 

SF ice Wh ce Be SE: aos WL SS cele Sata 
8. Tetrameter catalectic pure, 
KaTOvacKke. KuOépn’ a8pos, "Adwuis: ti Ke Ocipuer. 
SOE MO NB A SY, Fe Sm a Be SA 

9. Tetrameter catalectic but with an iambic dipody in 
the second place, the mpidzreiov, 

nplatnca peév itplov AeTrTOD puKpoyv a7roKNas. 


This appears also roAvoynudricrov; the above is the 


kabapas éoxynuaticpévov. A frequent form also has 
only the second syzygy antispastic ; Sappho wrote in this 
meter, as 
yAuKela patep, ov Tor Sivapyat Kpéxnv Tov iotdv. 
SW sed, Way ne Hoagie Wg Ara wet KS PARE 
10. Tetrameter acatalectic, in which the whole third 
book of Sappho and many songs of Alkaios were written: 
vippais tais Ards é& ainyisyw pact reruypévais 
Petal Ye gf een, W,) bre Sarre Yr fps Ba 0 yuh 
11. The same hypercatalectic, as used by Simmias, 
Tov otuyvoy Meravirmov ddvov ai watpopdver épiGot, 


12. Pentameter, used by Alkaios, 
Kpovida Bacinjos yévos, Alay, tov apirrov 1éd ’AxidréEa. 


WU ae WAT ay Pa eS 





nar sae 
- —————- 
P - — — 
—————— 


a ee ee ee ee ee, Oe 


a 


a. we 


ee ee as ee ee ee Ce 


ge EL Ee Oe ol 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 221 


It is essential to take this entire series together in 
order to grasp its character and relation to other metrical 
theories and schemes. Several facts are thereby brought 

‘out. 

In the first place, the glyconic is here distinctly men- 
tioned by name; an attempt is made to account for its 
varieties, and to place it in relation to other meters of 
similar types. Concrete examples appear to be the 
starting-point, rather than an arithmetical scheme. So 
far, if we are looking for an explanation of logacedic 
verse, Hephaistion is more promising than Aristides. 
Yet only one of the forms which we know as glyconic is 
included; this scheme is no more complete than the 
other. The differences between the two in terminology 
and method are considerable and lie on the surface; for 
example, Hephaistion’s antispast is one of the two 
Baxyxeiot of Aristides, who enumerates in each case the 
simple two-syllabled feet instead of taking the four- 
syllabled foot as the unit. On the other hand, Hephaistion 
treats the antispast as a compound, ovuyia, of which the 
first half is variable, while Aristides distinctly recognizes 
the grouping by pairs. In both authors alike we must 
look in other parts of their work for the treatment of 
plainly related forms. 

If now we ask whether Hephaistion’s scheme is in itself 
rational and satisfactory as an explanation of these 
metrical forms, the difficulties are considerable, and in 
part of similar character to those we found in that of 
Aristides. The fundamental one is in the foot assumed 
as unit. We need not go over all the discussion about 
the antispast. The most thorough metricians of the 
modern school have not yet fully rehabilitated the anti- 
spast, though I see no reason why one should stick at it 
more than at Blass’s enhoplii and the other feet assumed 


222 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


in the Weil—Masqueray theory of logacedic verse. The 
objection to all is of the same character. Put simply it 
is this: We cannot believe that such a combination of 
syllables was a real foot in the Aristoxenean sense, a foot 
employed continuously, by which the character of the 
rhythm was marked and made intelligible. We cannot, 
indeed, be confident that our rhythmical feeling was in 
every detail the same as that of the Greeks; we must in 


some particulars distrust our feeling and accept well — 


accredited ancient doctrine. But we cannot suppose our 
sense of rhythm to be so absolutely unlike the ancient. 
So far as the doctrines of Aristoxenos have been handed 
down to us in unquestionable form, they harmonize well 
with our experience. His idea of the foot is clearly 
expressed, is beyond question, and commends itself to 
our reason. The antispast and amphibrach, as feet of 
continuous rhythmopoiia, are inconsistent with his 
description of six-timed and four-timed feet, because in 


them thesis and arsis cannot stand in due relation to each: 


other; they are out of harmony with other parts of his 
system, and also with our reason and rhythmic sense, 
because they divide each pair of short syllables occur- 
ring regularly between longs in a continuous series, and 
put the two syllables in different feet, while our ear 
agrees with Aristoxenos in refusing to make such a divi- 
sion. And in such shifting and changeable forms as 
we are asked to accept, in numbers 6 and 7 above for 
example, all sense of a unit of rhythmic measurement is 
lost. 

Further, does anyone accept the explanation here 
given of the dochmiac? The right syllables are there, 
in the right order; but no one supposes that the Greek 
poets conceived of them as divided in that way. What 
we have here is a purely “metrical” statement, correct 


sere Se gO eee el ee ee ee ee eee ae 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 223 


so far as external “ metrical” fact goes, but not correctly 
representing the rhythm. Precisely how the poets con- 
ceived that rhythm one mav feel uncertain; we may be 
quite certain they did not conceive it in this way. But 
this part of the scheme is of equal authority with the 
rest, the rest of no greater authority than this. 

Finally, Hephaistion’s chapter 14, in which are set 
down Tis Kar avtimabeav pigews TA TUKVdTaTA, includes 
several forms that appear to be related to those we have 
been considering ; they have been grouped naturally with 
them as “logacdic.” And Hephaistion, though he 
does not make clear the kinship of the two groups of 
meters, does apply to them a similar principle. That 
principle is in essence this: Taking each well-marked 
and familiar series, treated simply as a succession of long 
and short syllables in a definite order and number, he 
divides it into “feet” (ovfvyias) of four syllables each, 
beginning always at the beginning of the line. As 
metrical key he then takes that four-syllabled foot which 
is most nearly constant in the series; the other four-syl- 
labled groups he treats as variations of that foot; if the 
whole number of syllables is not evenly divisible by four, 
the line is catalectic or hypercatalectic. Thus, for 
example, the eleven-syllabled sapphic, 
moixtndOpov’ abavar ’Adpodita, —y—¥|—vu—lvu—¥ 
is epichoriambic ; the first syzygy is a trochaic dipody, 
“‘ six-timed or seven-timed;” the second is a choriamb ; 
what remains is a “close” (xataxdes) consisting of an 
iambus and syllaba anceps. The adonic, rérma Oupdr, 
in like manner is a choriambic penthemimeres. So also . 
the twelve-syllabled line, 


ido’, ayva, perdydpuetde Vdrrpor, 


Se ee Pa aT er 


224 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


is an émiwvixov tpiuerpov akeatddyn«Tov, because the 
- second syzygy, when the line is divided thus, is an ionic 
a maiore. That this line is identical with the eleven- 
syllabled sapphic, except for a prefixed arsis, this way of 
dividing and naming obscures completely. Yet rhyth- 
mically that resemblance is fundamental; a proper 
rhythmical method would bring this out distinctly. 
Such a method would involve some recognition of arsis 
and thesis, and of the Aristoxenean conception of the — 
foot, which this method of Hephaistion ignores. | 

In short, in all these cases Hephaistion is consistently 
a metricus. We ought not to expect him to be anything 
else. He describes the syllabic constitution of these 
various lines, merely taking the syllables as longs and 
shorts in the traditional way. His description for that 
purpose is accurate, concise, complete. It hardly becomes 
us to throw contempt on his technical method or termi- 
nology, until some modern scholar has worked out for 
the metric of some modern language a system and a 
terminology equally precise, complete, and terse. But 
neither should we look in his pages for descriptions of 
the rhythm where the syllabic constitution does not of 
itself reveal it to the modern reader. Hephaistion and 
his readers — or at least his authorities and their readers 
—read the lines or sung them correctly; they could 
without difficulty infer the rhythms from the syllabic 
succession of simple longs and shorts, as we infer the 
rhythms in English from the succession of accented and 
unaccented syllables merely. That arrangement of longs 
and shorts given, they had all they needed, as we for 
English have all we need when the arrangement of 
syllables as accented or unaccented is given. They were 
not writing for a future race who should be unable to do 
what they did. The error of the present “ metrical ” 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 225 


school is natural, but serious; it consists in assuming 
that a particular ancient “metrical” description is iden- 
tical, and was meant to be identical, with a rhythmical 
description. We have in these more complicated meters 
the same situation substantially that we found in the 
elegiac pentameter. To ascertain the true rhythm we 
must follow the same method as with that, though the 
problem is now more difficult and the solution in some 
cases less certain. We will, therefore, looka little farther 
at the ancient tradition in regard to the glyconic, and see 
first if the “ metrical” trail leads to any suggestion as to 
the rhythm of this and related verses. 

In Marius Vict., p. 74 K., the author begins his descrip- 
tion of the leading meters which he regards as derived, 
‘per adiectionem et detractionem, item per immutationem 
et concinnationem,’ from the heroic hexameter. As the 
starting-point of this system the “kola or kommata” of 
the hexameter are classed as apxtixd, TediKd, or Kowa, 
according as they stand, or may by their syllabic consti- 
tution stand, respectively at the beginning, at the end, or 
in both positions, in the hexameter. His Latin equiva- 
lents are initiales, finales or novissimales, communes. 
The system is ingenious and simple, though wholly 
unhistorical, if regarded as a basis of the explanation of 
the actual origin and development of meters. As an il- 
lustration of the ‘ trimetrus initialis’ he gives ‘sic te diva 
potens Cypri,’ and adds, quod metrum glyconium octasyl- 
labum dicitur. Next, as ‘trimetrus finalis’ he gives 
‘grato Pyrrha sub antro,’ quod pherecration heptasyl- 
labon appellatur’; as ‘dimetrus initialis,’ ‘arma sonan- 
tia’; as ‘dimetrus novissimalis,’ ‘ terruit urbem.’ 

As metrical descriptions of the lines quoted these are 
as authoritative as those of Hephaistion and Aristides. 


For my part, respect for the treatise that has come to us 
15 


226 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


under the name of Marius Victorinus has increased 
steadily with my study of it. Its fulness and clearness 
raise in the careful reader a high opinion of its author’s 
good sense on the whole, and the numerous repetitions 
and general eclectic character enable us to trace and to 
understand much that in other like works is fragmentary, 
obscure, or wholly wanting. The adonic kolon, ‘ terruit 
urbem,’ when read merely, cannot have been read without 
distortion otherwise than as a dactyl and a spondee or 
trochee. That division is not only “metrical” but indi- 
cates the rhythm. For the glyconic this description 
is not quite so complete as that of Hephaistion. It 
treats the final syllable, which is anceps, and in this 
example long, as short; it also takes no account of 
permissible variations in the first two syllables. But in 
fact the line is not cited for the purpose of fully 
describing the glyconic, but only to illustrate the use of 
terms, which it does with sufficient accuracy. And two 
points are to be noted. First, the spondaic beginning, 


which Aristides does not admit among his twelve-timed - 


periodoi, is correctly assumed asa normalform. Second- 
ly, this passage alone is enough to make it impossible to 
say that the theory of Aristides, as an explanation of 
the glyconic, “ von sémtlichen Metrikern geteilt wird.” 
For though Marius Vict. himself elsewhere (p. 119 K. 
etc.) offers, as “metrically” equivalent to this division, 
another division that can perhaps — with the serious ex- 
ception of the spondee at the beginning — be interpreted 
into agreement with Aristides, yet this passage distinctly 
implies a different theory, one surely not original with 
the author. Farther, it is clear that our author saw 
nothing in the rhythm of the line that was inconsistent 
with a division into spondee, dactyl, and a final dactyl 
with syllable anceps. The following passages throw a 
little farther light on the matter. 


fees 
et an hh 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 227 


(1) Trimetrum igitur epicum nihil a glyconio metro 
differre non nulli contendunt, quod constat ex spondeo et 
choriambo et pyrrichio vel trochaeo ultimo, ex quo plura 
apud Horatium asmata sunt, ut 


sic te diva potens Cypri 


et cetera. nam si solvas choriambum et novissimam eius 
syllabam supremis duabus adiungas, ex choriambo et 
dibrachy duo dactyliefficientur. quod cum ita sit, nullus 
infitias ire poterit, quod ex spondeo et duobus dactylis 
trimetrum epicum formatum sit. cui si pherecratium 
adiunxeris heptasyllabum, hexametrum heroum, cui 
priapeum nomen est, figurabis, ut 


sic te diva potens Cypri, grato Pyrra sub antro, 


qui constat ex spondeo, duobus dactylis, quarto spondeo, 
quinto dactylo, sexto spondeo. ... memineris autem 
non omnem versum priapeum probabilem fore, nisi eum 
qui ex glyconio et pherecratio ita est compositus, ut 
utraque eius cola a spondeo inchoentur, de quo suo loco 
plenius dicemus. (P. 119 f. K.). 

(2) Legimus apud Horatium 


sic te diva potens Cypri: 


hoc glyconium metrum dicitur, quod constat ex spondeo 
choriambo et ultimo trochaeo vel eodem spondeo. com- 
mune hoc esse cum heroo trimetro, quod constat ex 
spondeo et duobus dactylis, cunctis in promptu est. item 


Maecenas atavis edite regibus 


apud eundem lyricum: hoc asclepiadeum metrum appel- 
latur, quod constat ex disyllabis primo et extimo pedibus, 
mediis duobus choriambis. hoc quoque par et commune 


228 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


esse pentametro, ei dumtaxat, cui paenultimus anapaestus 
est, nemo dubitabit. (P.146 f. K.) 

(3) Initium autem ab eo versu sumimus, cui sapphico 
nomen est, non ut ab ea invento, sed iugiter usurpato: e 
cuius fonte plurimae species disparis figurae prolabuntur. 
huius prior forma ea lege taxabitur, qua primus in versu 
spondeus sollemniter, post dactylus, dehinc tres trochaei 
ponuntur, e quis ithyphallico seu phalaecio, ut supra 
diximus, nomen est. instruendi tamen sumus legem 
collocandi in exordio spondei varie veteres custodisse. 
nam quidam et trochaeum et iambum in ea sede collocasse 
reperiuntur, inter quos et Catullus est sub exemplis 
huius modi, 


cui dono lepidum novum libellum 
arido modo pumice expolitum ? 
meas esse aliquid putare nugas. (P. 148 K.) 


(4) Nam heroi hexametri tres pedes cum inciderint 
interposita, ut versus priapeus exigit, distinctione, eundem . 
secernunt, ut ‘cui non dictus Hylas puer,’ dehinc ‘et 
Latonia Delos.’ qui si inter se enuntiatione copulentur, 
hexametri versus tenorem integrum modumque praesta- 
bunt, nequaquam tamen disciplinae ac dignitati heroi 
respondentem. nam divisio huius in secundo commate 
infracta paululum ac mollior receptis in versu primo et 
quarto spondeis efficitur, ut apud Catullum 


hunce lucum tibi dedico consecroque, Priape, 


quos distinctio occultat auribus, nam si divisiones metri 
priapei SepATORUCE, ita sonabunt apud viedo, ‘ fronde 
super viridi sunt,’ dehinc ‘nobis mitia poma’: ‘ castaneae 
molles et,’ dehine ‘pressi copia lactis.’ constat autem, 
ut supra diximus, duobus metris, quorum prius est gly- 
conium octo syllabarum, sequens pherecratium syllaba 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 229 


deminutum, ita tamen ut novissima glyconii, id est 
octava syllaba, longa sit, si natura brevis fuerit, veluti 


Nereus ut caneret fera, grato Pyrra sub antro. 


igitur quod hoc versu Priapi laudes plerique canendo 
prosecuti sunt, priapeum metrum nuncuparunt, quod 
genus hexametri adeo abhorret ab heroi lege, ut utraque 
pars non numquam trochaeis et iambis aut pro spondeo 
-anapaestis inchoetur aut etiam cretico prius comma pro 
dactylo terminetur, ut est apud Catullum ‘nam te prae- 
cipue in suis,’ dehine ‘ Hellespontia ceteris,’ quia bina 
sunt cola mora distinctionis intercedente. (P.151 K.) 
In (1) the two divisions —~—|_vv|]—vy and 
——|—vv—!v- are shown to be “ metrically” equiv- 
alent. Next it is shown that a glyconic and pherecratic 
together, in that order, make a priapeum, provided each 
part begins with a spondee. ‘ The spondee is insisted on 
because the aim here is to illustrate the derivation 
theory, which made all three verses developments from 
the dactylic hexameter. In (2) the asclepiadean is 
shown in like manner to be identical with the elegiac 
pentameter,— less the final syllable, as the author 
makes clear three pages later (150 K.), where he adds 
a syllable and makes the line, ‘Maecenas atavis edite 
regibus 0.’ Here again, to favor the same derivation 
theory, that form of asclepiadean is assumed as normal 
which begins with a spondee and ends with a short syl- 
lable. But this likening of the line to the pentameter 
leads one to raise the question whether in rhythm also, 
as well as in syllabic constitution, the author understood 
this asclepiadean to be like the pentameter. We have 
seen that in the latter, as rhythm, this author, like 
Quintilian and Augustine, made a pause after the first 
hemistich, or such a prolongation as filled out the 


230 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


foot. Did he do the same at the end of ‘Maecenas 
atavis’ ? 

That he assumed such a pause or prolongation in the 
priapean is distinctly stated in (4). The expressions, 
‘interposita, ut versus priapeus exigit, distinctione,’ — 
‘bina sunt cola mora distinctionis intercedente,’ —‘ ita 
tamen ut novissima glyconii, id est octava syllaba, longa 
sit’ — these, when combined with the quantitative dif- 
ferences allowed between this line and the heroic hex- 
ameter, leave no doubt as to what is meant. The case 
is clearly parallel to that of the pentameter. The two 
kola are separated always by word-ending and by such a 
pause or prolongation as makes the adjacent syllables, 
final of one and initial of the other, both @éces, though 
elsewhere the author did not hesitate to call them a 
spondee (p. 152, 8 K.). If, in disregard of this law of 
the ‘ versus priapeus,’ the two kola ‘inter se enuntiatione 
copulentur,’ the result will be a sort of bastard hexam- 
eter, not the priapeus at all; though “metrically ”’ in | 
some cases the two verses may be identical. And 
farther, although this alone would not be enough to 
prove it, we have here a strong indication that the gly- 
conic when it formed a verse by itself also, as read by 
this author, ended on a thesis, —in other words, that 
rhythmically, to the metricus himself, the line was 
——|—vvl—vl—. In Atilius Fortunatianus how- 
ever we find it stated plainly (p. 291 K.) that the final 
syllable was prolonged in the glyconic: Priapeum dac- 
tylicum metrum tertium pedem parte orationis finit, 
producta tamen in ultimo syllaba (nam glyconius versus 
sic habet). And the rest of the sentence distinctly im- 
plies, if we may suppose him to have meant what he said 
in the word ‘aequales ’, which he emphasizes by position, 
that the pherecratic also ended with some sort of pro- 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 231 


longation. For he adds to the above: et in duas 
aequales dividitur partes. This fits perfectly the 
rhythm, 


= 31 level wit toe wy tet Z 


If we are to suppose that the “ metrical” descriptions of 
these verses were also intended to describe truly the 
rhythm, while each long was understood to have exactly 
twice the length of a short, such allusions to ‘syllabae 
productae,’ to a ‘mora distinctionis,’ to equality of gly- 
conic and pherecratic, are inexplicable nonsense. But all 
become at once intelligible, in harmony with Aristoxenos 
and with our own rhythmical sense, on the supposition 
which I have followed. One hypothesis leaves a num- 
ber of insoluble puzzles; the other solves them. In 
harmony also with this assertion of equality between 
glyconic and pherecratic is the familiar practice of using 
the two kola as equal members of a periodos, — as for 
example in Anakreon’s 

youvovpal ao, édkadnBore, 

EavOn mat Ards, aypiwv 

déomrow “Apteut Onpav 

xalpovo’* ov yap avnupous 

Tolmaives ToALHnTas. 


In passage (3) the lines of Catullus, obviously nearly 
akin rhythmically to the second glyconic, are divided on 
the same principle which Marius Vict. has led us to as 
the true one, rhythmically, for the glyconic. The same 
division is given also p. 118 K. “ Metrically,” there is 
no inconsistency between the scheme of Hephaistion 
vo —vulu—v—(above p. 219), and this of Marius Vict., 
uy|—_vv|l—v!i—; but the latter indicates the rhythm, 
the former does not. 


232 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


We have now followed our “metrical” trail far 
enough to find distinct indications of the true rhythm 
in cases where the ratio between long and short was 
other than that of two to one. We have also found, in 
the metrici themselves, alongside of those unrhythmical 
divisions that have lately been coming back into favor, 
not only traces, but precise and full descriptions, of other 
methods of division applied to some of the “logacedic” 
meters, — methods of division which operate only with 
the feet approved by Aristoxenos, and which harmonize 
fully with the modern feeling for rhythm. Farther evi- 
dence touching the validity of this rhythmical treatment 
may be found along yet another line of search. 

First, what meters did the metrici themselves call 
logacedic, and how did they describe these? The loci 
classici are the following from Hephaistion and Marius 
Victorinus. 

(1) “Eort Sétiva Kal Aoyaordind Kadotvpeva SaxtuAKa, 
admep év pev tais addrals yopais Saxtirovs eye, . 
TeXevtaiay 5é€ Tpoyaixny avlvylave éort 8 avTav 
émionudtata Td Te pos Svo SaxtvrAoW eyov Tpoyaixnv 
ovbuyiav, KkaXovpevov dé ’AXxaixov SexacvrAraBor * 


Kal tis én’ éoxatiaiow oiKes * 
Kal TO mpos Tpiol, Kadovpevov Ipaki/rXeLop, 


@ dia Tov Ovpidmy Karov éuBrAé¢roica, 
map0éve Tay kehardv, Ta 8 evepOe vipa. 


(p. 25 W.) 


(2) “Qomep S5é év to SaxtvrAK@ Fv Te Royaordsixdy, 
ovUTw KaY TOIS AvaTratoTLKOIS TO eis BaKyelov TrepaLovpevon * 
ov éotly émtonudratoy Td peTa Téccapas mddas avTov 
éyov tov Baxyeiov, dv 6 mp&tos yiverat kal orovSelos 
kal iapBos. Kxareirar pev ody ’ApyeSovrcov amd ’Apye- 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 233 


BovxXov tod @nBalov rrointod xpnoapevov avT@ KaTaKdpas * 
yéeyparrat 5é kal Kadrtpaye, 
"Ayétw Oeds, ov yap éyw Siva TOS delSevv. 
TOUTO ev OvY aro avaTraicToUv* amd dé orovédelou, 
Nvyuda, od pév adotepiav bd’ apakav 75n. 
amo O& idpBou, 
Pirorépa aptt yap & LxKera pév “Evva. 
Tovs O& peTa Tov TpaTov mwdda Tpeis of pev ev cuvexela 
yparavtes TO pétpov Tavtas avatraictous édiraktav’ 
"ArKxpav S€ tov Kal o7rovdelovs tTrapadkapBave. (P. 29 
f W.) 

(8) His logaocedicam metri speciem, quae et enoplios 
et archebulios dicitur, non absurde coniunxerim, adaeq ue 
dactylici metri subolem, scilicet cum trochaica basi ver- 
sus clauditur duobus vel tribus vel quattuor dactylis 
praeeuntibus, prout carminis mensura aut ratio exegerit. 
cuius generis est etiam hoc, quod ex duobus dactylis et 
duobus conectitur trochaeis et appellatur alcaicum deca- 
syllabum, ut est 


laurea Nyctelio corona ; 

item e tribus dactylis et duobus trochaeis, ut 

quadrupedante ciet pede primus aequor ; 
rursus e quattuor et duobus trochaeis, ut 

Romulide pedites Arabum populis amici. 
quae species et in anapaestico versu reperietur, ita dum- 
taxat, ut postrema eius clausula bacchio a brevi incipi- 
ente terminetur et pro anapaesto non numquam spondeus 
ponatur. (p. 111 f. K.) 


These passages are clear and consistent with one an- 
other. Lines or kola beginning with two or more dac- 


234 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


tyls and ending with a trochaic dipody were called 
logacedic dactylic. Correspondingly, an anapeestic be- 
ginning and iambic ending constituted the anapestic 
logacedic. But in this latter the first foot may be a 
spondee or iambus instead of an anapzest, while for some 
reason the iambic dipody at the end seems always to 
lack a syllable. The texts call this trisyllabic ending 
a bacchius; but the examples bear out the scholion 
(p. 178 W.) which mentions — what we should of course 
expect — that the final syllable is anceps. That this 
iambic close should always be catalectic, while the 
trochaic close of the dactylic logacedic is complete, 
catches the attention at once. The two series, it ap- 
pears, are exactly alike in their ending; the only dif- 
ference is at the beginning. This is a case where the 
application of the modern musical method of division 
brings out most simply the real difference between the 
two, thus: 


CUT, py MNT rf qoeiey ry W)) Mane, Rue 2 dactylic logacediec, 
So |—vvul—vvul—vvl—vl—-¥ anapestic logacedic. 


That is, a logacedic series has two or more dactyls fol- 
lowed by a trochaic dipody; it may or may not have a 
prefixed arsis of one short, one long, or two short sylla- 
bles. Whether the final syllable was treated as an arsis, 
or as a thesis following a prolonged syllable, there is here 
no clear indication; but the name bacchius for the last 
three syllables of the second form suggests the latter as 
the true close. 

The metrici recognized, therefore, various combina- 
tions of dactyls and trochees in one kolon; Alkman ad- 
mitted the spondee for one or more of the dactyls. The 
name logacedic implied at least two dactyls — or in Alk- 
man one spondee and one dactyl?—followed by two 





COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 235 


trochees. It is left uncertain whether the nine-sylla- 
bled sapphic, in the form kal kviccn twa Ovpinoas 
———vv—v—-, which Hephaistion elsewhere (p. 33 
W.., see above, p. 219) calls an antispastic dimeter hyper- 
catalectic, would also, in the view of Hephaistion, 
come under this head or not. It would seem that 
it must; its close kinship, as a piece of rhythm, with 
—vvy—vvy—v—*, which the metrici certainly called 
logacedic, is undeniable. In our longest fragment of 
Alkman both forms occur as equivalents in antistrophic 
responsion, as 

Tov wroTreTpLoiwy dvelpwr, 

GoTpov aveipopeval mayoral. 

arn’ ‘Ayacrydpa pe Tpei. 


And at least in these logacedic verses with two dactyls 
there is not the slightest warrant in the ancient tradition 
for syncopation in the modern musical sense, or for any 
method of rhythmical division other than that into plain 
dactyls (or spondees) and trochees, perhaps in some 
cases with a double thesis at the close, the penultimate 
syllable being prolonged. The form —vy—vyu—vu_¥ 
is simply the familiar vai dopyucba ov perdaiva, or ‘ flu- 
mina constiterint acuto,’ the fourth line of the alcaic 
strophe. | 

Again, no meter has a more plainly marked rhythm, 
universally agreed upon, than the trochaic tetrameter. 
But in this trochaic rhythm dactyls were admitted. 
Hephaistion says: 

To dé daxtiAm TO KaTa Tas Tepitras émrlrrovts 
xopas nKioTa oF tapBorrool éypyjocavto ‘trointai: 
omavios 5 Kal of tpayixol, of S& Kwpixol cuveydas, 
aotrep Kal év T@ tapBu@, TO él THs aprlov avatralcTy’ 
éxdtepov yap dAroyov: ovtTe yap év TO lapPiK@ éexpHv 


236 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


dvatratorov él THs aptiov yadpas, ép’ Hs ode orrovbeios 
éyyopel, ov vols éoTiv oO avdratoTos* ovTe ev Tw 
Tpoyaix@ él THs mepiTTHs Tov SaxTurov, ed’ Hs ovde 
arovocios éyyxapel, ob dpolws Avots Oo SdxTuAos. (P. 21 
f. W.) 

The rarity of the dactyl among such trochees does not 
affect our question. It was recognized as legitimate ; 
how was it treated? Evidently Hephaistion considered 
it parallel to the spondee in the same meter, admissible 
in the same places, treated in the same way. Rossbach, 


indeed, says (Metrik’, p. 189, note): Hephaestion halt 


den (kyklischen) Dactylus fiir eine Auflésung des 
(irrationalen) Spondeus, doch haben beide Fiisse nichts 
mit einander zu thun. The dictum of the last clause 
rests on nothing but a modern assumption as to the 
character of the “cyclic” dactyl. We have already tray- 
ersed that ground, and will not repeat our steps. Heph- 
aistion’s view, as here stated, is eminently reasonable, 
not in conflict with any principle that we have hitherto 
discovered. In my judgment it furnishes, in combina- 
tion with the Aoyaordxd, a clue to the right understanding 
of the meters we are considering. Not that this passing 
remark of a metrician would alone determine the matter. 
But other familiar facts point to the same conclusion. 
In the iambic trimeter also, of the stricter form, two 
short syllables were admitted in arsis only where the 
irrational long was admitted. What is there to oppose 
the natural presumption that the one arsis was equal in 
duration to the other, both being irrational ? 

Here, then, are two distinct types of rhythmical combi- 
nation, which at certain points closely converge. On one 
side are combinations of two or more dactyls (or in some 
cases anapeests, according to the mode of division) 
followed by a trochaic dipody (or in the other case 4 





Z\BRAR 
ba OF ATS 
UNIVERSITY } 


Ur 


~~ no YN ae 






COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 237 


bacchius). Any longer trochaic close than the dipody 
is for some reason tacitly excluded from the type under 
this separate name, Aoyaodied. The. reason may be 
merely a theory that such a longer trochaic series had 
better be classed as a separate kolon, which would make 
the whole a compound instead of a mixed meter; or it 
may be some other feature of the “metrical” system of 
nomenclature. For our present purpose both the fact of 
exclusion and the reason for it are immaterial. One or 
more of the dactyls (or anapests, as before) may be 
replaced by the spondee ; one pure dactyl was enough to 
preserve the general type. So much on the one side. 
On the other side is the single dactyl occuring in one of 
the odd places of trochaic verse, or (as before) the 
anapeest in iambic verse; in both alike two short syllables 
fill the place and the time of an irrational long. In 
tetrapodies the two types approximate each other closely ; 
for example, 


Grr’ “Aynotydpa pe type. ——|—vvl—vl—yv 
trois *EXevowios guvradcoov, —vl|—vyl—vl—» 


The latter is cited from a trochaic tetrameter of Epichar- 
mos. Both these forms are divided by the old metrici in 
the manner indicated; one cannot doubt that in these 
cases that division indicates correctly the rhythm. 

How, then, should we divide in order to indicate the 
rhythm in other lines that are clearly, so far as we can 
see, of nearly related character? Alkman furnishes 
illustrations enough. Let one examine without a pre- 
conceived view these passages. 


(1) EvSovow & dpéwv xopupal re kai pPadparyyes, 
mpwoves Te Kal yapddpar, | 
gird & épreta técoa tpéper wédaiva yaia. 


238 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


(2) °"H ody opys; o péev Kédns 
*Everixcs* a& 8 yalta 
Tas éuas avetrias 
‘“Aynotxyopas érravbet 
“pvaos WS AknpaTos ° 
Td T apytpiov mpdawrrovy — 
Siapddav ti Tow Aéyw; 
‘Aynovycpa peéev ava. 


In (1) the subject excludes all thought of any rhythm 
that could express 76 tapaydes ; syncopation is out of 
the question. The first line is Aoyaoudixds, except that 
one more trochee is added. Can anyone believe that the 
additional trochee alters in any way the rhythmical 
character of what precedes? The line is surely 
——l—-vvl—vvul—vl—v!l—v The only question that 
can arise with regard to divisions is whether Alkman 
conceived of it as one kolon or two. But the third 


line is identical in movement, except that the second . 


syllable is short. This is not antistrophic responsion, 
itis true; but it is just the kind of repetition with slight 
variation that is so prominent a feature in all the 
rhythmic arts, and is founded deep in the very nature 
of those arts. The line between these two consists of 
four pure trochees; sense-pauses fall at the end of each 
line. It is impossible to divide the third line otherwise 
than as —v|—vvul—vvul—vl—v!l—v. But here we 
have one trochee before and three after the two dactyls. 
Again, in (2) the first four lines are repeated rhythmical- 
ly in the second four with two slight variations. For 
convenience of comparison with the trochaic tetrameter 
we may write the scheme, simply longs and shorts, 


ignoring for the moment the question of prolongation, 
thus: : 





ae 
i 
, a 
q 
F g 
a 
,- 
% 
. 
q 
" 
a 
\ 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 239 


Ope ae act aE Gh y Pies ege ee 
BU SRS VE arabe Po kad eee) Pe 
ASA ieee Nae cd ae 
AT I SN a a ca 


The movement is plainly trochaic; but for the tribrach 
in the first line of the scheme a dactyl appears in the 
other three. Here, then, is the single dactyl again among 
trochees, in such surroundings that one cannot doubt 
that at least the second of the two shorts belonged in 
arsis, not in thesis. As to the first of the two shorts, 
one might indeed make an argument for putting it in 
thesis. So far as this passage alone goes, one might take 
the correspondence between the dactyls and the tribrach as 
a bit of evidence for making the long irrational and regard- 
ing the thesis as made up of this irrational long plus the 
first short. But we have seen that the evidence for a 
cyclic dactyl of the same duration as a trochee,—a 
dactyl in which the syllables bear the ratios of 14: 4:1 
or of §: }: $— dissolves and vanishes before critical 
examination. Also the evidence for any form of irra- 
tional syllable, properly so called, in thesis, turns out 
very dubious at best. Farther, the verses in question, 4, 
6, 8 of the text, if divided separately in Hephaistion’s 
fashion, come under the head of Hephaistion’s avarratotixa 
Aoyaordiead — unless indeed we are to insist that two 
pure anapzests must be present in addition to the initial 
spondee or iambus, to justify that name. In short, there 
is no sufficient reason for doubting that the dactyls we 
are considering are of exactly the same character as those 
in (1). 

Thus by several roads and from rather distant starting- 
points we have arrived at the same result, namely, the 
existence in Greek poetry of numerous and common 
forms of mixed kola, — that is, of kola wherein one or 


240 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


more dactyls are combined with one or more trochees or 
iambi. The old metricians themselves recognized such 
mixture within a kolon, though it was no part of their 
program to explain fully what in such cases the real 
rhythm was. To call such mixed kola logacedic is to 
extend a little, but only a little, the sense of the ancient 
term; if one does not like to do that, the simple term 
mixed, which is also ancient, will do very well. 

How did the rhythmizing impulse deal with such 
mixed kola? Somewhat variously, we may believe, but 
variously within narrow limits, according to the nature 
of the material, — that is, according to the proportion of 
the two kinds of feet, and according to the phonetic 
constitution of the separate feet. To simplify the prob- 
lem we will consider only the cases where there is no 
question of prolonging a thesis to a triseme or a tetra- 
seme —in other words, kola of dactyls and trochees 
alone. Following the indications of the rhythmici and 
metrici together, and accepting hints from our own pro- 
cedure in rhythmizing modern verses, in reading them 
and in singing them to the simplest melodies, we may 
state the matter thus. ‘Two impulses acted in a certain 
degree of opposition to each other. One impulse was to 
rhythmize the syllables of dactyls and spondees in even 
time, thesis and arsis equal, and the syllables of trochees 
in triple time, thesis twice the length of the arsis. That 
was the normal thing; it was founded in the nature of 
language as ordinarily spoken, and in the nature of the. 
rhythmic sense. The constancy of that impulse pro- 
duced in Greek poetry in general the two rhythmical 
classes distinctly felt as the yévos cov and the yévos 
Surddovov. The other impulse was to carry the equaliz-. 
ing process through the entire kolon by making the feet 
themselves equal. That is, of course, only another mani- 


COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 241 


festation of the same tendency that produced the former 
impulse. Both result from the inclination to arrange 
our rapid muscular movements, and the sounds which 
they produce, in groups of equal duration, or in groups 
whose relative durations exhibit very simple ratios. But 
one impulse deals with the smallest rhythmical unit, the 
syllable, and arranges successive syllables in the familiar 
grouping, the feet. The other deals with the larger and 
more complex unit, the foot, the product of the first im- 
pulse, which is the primary and the stronger impulse of 
the two. The impulse to equalize feet of different yévy 
is secondary. The process is not so easy, because it 
- involves some violence to the primary impulse; equali- 
zation is not so imperatively demanded; the habit of 
shifting at brief intervals from one yévos to another is 
constantly exercised in daily speech. Accordingly in a 
line like eddovow & dpéwv xopudal te nal ddpayyes we 
may suppose the movement to have been distinctly that 
of even time through the first three feet, then of triple 
time the rest of the way. The line may indeed have 
been conceived as consisting of two kola; three dactyls 
constituted a kolon in most forms of the dactylic verse. 
The accelerando of the latter part of the line produces a 
pleasing effect that has parallels in English verse. The 
conductor in such cases would simply mark the thesis, 
giving one down beat to each foot; that would be ample 
guidance for any chorus. In shorter lines like 


youvodual a’, éhadnBonre, 
Eav0 mai Atos, aypiwv 
ddorrow “Apreut Onpar, 


the effect must have been the same, though the acceler- 
ando and ritardando recur at briefer intervals. On the 


other hand, if a single dactyl occurred amid trochees (or 
16 


242 CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


a single anapeest amid iambi) the general movement in 
triple time was so distinctly marked that the single foot 
would doubtless be so far shortened as to become clearly 
irrational. That is essentially the same situation that is 
so frequent in iambic and trochaic verse, when a “ spon- 
dee” stands in one or more of the dipodies. In all such 
cases the arsis of the isolated foot, which was normally 
in other surroundings made equal to the thesis, was 
now made irrational; the iambic movement was retarded 
by a slight delay on one up-beat. Between these two 
extremes were the numerous cases that form, taken 
together, an unbroken and minutely graded sequence. 
Every grade can be illustrated from our fragments of 
the lyric poets, and a great variety of forms might 
appear in a single poem. 

This theory throws overboard the doctrine of equality 
between the feet. Yes; but no more completely than 
Aristoxenos does by his doctrine — unquestionably 


sound —of the irrational syllable. And we may add, | 


no more completely than does modern music when 
simple words of emotional character are sung with 
expression. An irrational trochee was longer than the 
pure trochee beside it, — just as much longer as a dactyl 
among trochees,and no moreso. The irrational syllable 
was not exactly measured by the ypdvos mrpatos, which is, 
nevertheless, properly called the measure of the rhythm 
in general. The doctrine of the ypdvor ris puOworosias 
técoc must also be remembered as part of the system of 
Aristoxenos. And yet this does not mean the reintro- 
duction of chaos into metric. Limits were strictly drawn 
beyond which poet or singer could not go and did not 
desire to go —as distinctly as with the modern poet and 
modern singer. In such mixed kola unity was main- 
tained by equality between theses; arses might vary 





\ > er a 
a ee ee ee ee oe Se 








COMPOUND AND MIXED METERS 243 


between the limits fixed for irrational syllables, that is, 
between the length of a thesis and that of half a thesis. 
If more than one foot of the dactylic class was admitted, 
they were grouped together ; a prolonged thesis, or ovd- 
xpovov, might stand between them, but no true foot of 
the iambic class. There is also a strong tendency, though 
- itis by no means a fixed rule, to place the feet of even 
time at the beginning of the kolon and make the close 
in triple time. In the second glyconic the noticeable 
preference for a spondee in the first place is a manifesta- 
tion of the same natural rhythmic feeling. In such ways 
the sense for rhythmic law controlled the poet and musi- 
cian, and should control the modern student. Indeed, 
in all the arts that deal with time or with space mathe- 
matical relations are the framework; the flesh that clothes 
and gives life to the skeleton, making the whole a work 
of art instead of a mechanism, must in doing this round 
out the surface and lend grace to the hard mathematical 
lines. Without the rigid framework to determine the 
essential character and fix the significant relations, the 
whole would be unmeaning, a formless confusion; 
though any skeleton performs its function best when 
well covered. To take another illustration, already used 
above (which of course must not be pressed too far), 
the rhythmic effect of such departure, strictly limited, 
from exact ratios between arsis and thesis may be 
compared to the harmonic effect of discords in music, 
which are at once resolved, and lend expressiveness and 
force as nothing else could. None of these departures 
went farther than modern tempo rubato. 

One source of difficulty in melic meters must always 
remain, in lack of the music. Though the musician did 
not do violence to natural quantities —that is, did not 
so rhythmize as to shorten or prolong individual sylla- 


244 ‘CHAPTERS ON GREEK METRIC 


bles much beyond the limits allowed in speaking — yet 
he might, and sometimes did, adopt for a particular 
series such a combination of the syllabic times as would 
not have suggested itself to a reader. In such cases the 
composer indicated the times in his notes. The Seikilos 
inscription (C. Jan, Musici Scriptores, p. 452, or Suppl., 
p. 38 f.) is an example of such rhythmization ; no modern 
reader certainly, and probably no ancient reader, could, 
without the notes, have discovered the rhythm there 
adopted. How far the lyric and dramatic poets availed 
themselves of this freedom we have no means of know- 
ing, and no papyri or inscriptions are likely ever to an- 
swer the question fully. No student of metric should 
leave this uncertainty out of view. The foregoing inter- 
pretations are offered with distinct recognition of this 
uncertain element, but with the conviction that at pres- 
ent we have no sufficient ground for believing that that 
element was after all very large in the meters we have 
been considering. 








ey 
Pea 
ee 4 


faa 


= 








INDEX. 


Nors. — Full-faced figures indicate that the original is quoted. 


ADONIC, 223, 226. 

Aischylos, parodos of Ag., 204f.; 
Eum. 516-519, 195; Eum. 553 f., 
210; Pers. 66-116, 166. 

Alcaic, 220. 

Alkman, 190, 234 f., 237 ff. 

*Adoyla (see also Irrational), defined 
by Aristoxenos, 109f., West- 
phal’s view, 111 f.; in English 
verse, 112f.; associated with the- 
ory of various longs, 9; but not 
by Aristoxenos, 11f.; not in 
thesis, 173 f. 

Ambiguous meters, 39 f. 

Amphibrach, 222. 

Anakreon, 231. 

Antispast, 219, 221 f. 

Archilochos, 58 ; combined two yév7 
in one teplodos, 199. 

Aristides Quintilianus, on quantity 
of consonants, 8 ; on cuprAékortes 
etc., 9; characterized, 10f., 191; 
on order of topics in metric, 15; 
on elegiac pentameter, 31; on 
péca wérpa, 39f.; on pududs and 
madoua, 51; cites rhythm of 
pulse, 65; notes behavior of voice 
in reading poetry, 129; on extent 
of kola, 145; on onueta modixd, 
146f.; on irrational feet, 151; 
defines foot, 154; on orpoyytAan 
and mepirAew, 176 ff.; on zepi- 
odos, 191 f.; on effect of frequent 
change of yévos, 203; on obvOera 
pvOuol, 213 ff.; counts “times” 
on “ metrical”’ basis, 216; differ- 
ences between him and Aristoxe- 
nos, 213f.; between him and 
Hephaistion, 221; on ethos of 
rhythms, 217. 





Aristophanes, Clouds 649 ff., 185, 
188, 18 f. 

Aristotle, refers to werpixol for doc- 
trine of sounds and syllables, 
16f.; counts rhythm and imi- 
tation equally xara piow, 65; 
on rhythm of prose, 90. 

Aristoxenos, founder of rhythmical 
school, 11 ; made metric a branch 
of rhythmic, 14; his Elements of 
Rhythm extant in fragments, 15; 
made xpévos mp@tos instead of 
syllable the unit in rhythm, 15, 
25; took from earlier authorities 
his description of sounds, 16; put 
traditional metric in new light, 
18; pupil of Aristotle, 25; why 
his system was not universally 
adopted, 25-27 ; on the foot, 37; 
our safest guide on rhythm, 54, 
57; defines rhythm, 58; cited 
rhythms from nature and from 
human life, 66; on process of 
rhythmization, 101 ff.; on xpdvor 
mwodikol and puvOuorola, 104-109; 
on dAoyia, 110; on motion and 
rest in rhythm, 116; on move- 
ment of voice in speaking and in 
singing, 121f.; notes effect of 
emotion on speech-tune, 129; his 
definition of foot, 131 f.; allows 
no two-timed foot, 135 ; on onpeta 
mwodixd, 188 ff.; on means of di- 
viding time in rhythm, 147; on 
arsis and thesis, 150; irrational . 
syllable always in arsis, 173 f.; 
his statement that a long has 
twice the length of a short, 
207 f.; on Adyos tpimAdc.os and 
Adyos érirpiros, 209 f. 


248 INDEX. 


Arnold, M., 164 note. 

Arsis and thesis, 150; importance 
of, 151 f. 

Ars Palaemonis, on metrum and 
rhythmus, 52 f. 

Asclepiadean, 220, 227 ff. 

Atilius Fortunatianus, on rhythmus 
and metrum, 44; on the priapean 
and glyconic, 280 f. 


BaccHYLIDES PAPYRDS, 195. 

Bach, J. S., 206. 

Barnby, J., 80. 

“Bean porridge hot,” 73 ff. 

Bennett, C. E., 32, 156 ff. 

Blass, F., his theory of enhoplii, 
184 ff. 

Baccheios, on pvOuds and pérpor, 
42; on the évdérAuos, 186. 

Browning, R., 91, 211. 

Biicher, K., Arbeit u. Rhythmus, 
67-72. 


Caxrsar, J., 15, 181, 191 note. 

Caesius Bassus, 164 f. 

Catalexis, modern illustrations, 22 f. 

Catullus, 164, 166 note, 228. 

Change of yévos within a strophe, 
204 and note. 

Choriambic, 223. 

Christ, W., 3, 36, 155 f., 192 note. 

xpévor wodixol, 104 ff., 134 ff. 

xpdévor Ths pvOnorolas T5:01, 104 ff, 
153. 

Consonants, their quantity, 8 f., 13, 
87. 

Counting-out rimes, 73. 

“Cyclic” anapests and dactyls, 
168-183. 


Dacry.o-EPitRitic verse, 184 ff. ; 
name, 212. 

Dactyls, lyric, 190. 

Darwin, C., 128 f. 

Diomedes, on dividing the stil 
meter, 38. 

Dionysios of Halikarnassos, on va- 





rious longs and shorts, 7f.; his 
metrical analysis of clauses from 
Thukydides, 41f.; lists of feet 
show Aristoxenean influence, 43 ; 
contrasts prose and fududs, 51; 
on rhythm, etc., in oratory, 126; 
on melody of speech and of song, 
127; distinguishes e#pv@uos and 
Eppuduos, 127; 130, 168; on “ cy- 
clic” feet, 168 ff.; on zeplodos, 
194. 

Dipodic grouping, 145, 161. 

Dochmiac, 219, 222 f. 

Swoexdonpmor weplodor, 190 f., 218,216, 


Emerson, R. W., 211. 

English verse, described differently 
by people who agree in their 
reading, 25; misunderstood, acc. 
to Tennyson, 25 note; Lanier’s 
“Science of,” 83 note; Goodell’s 
“ Quantity in, ” 83 note; in what 
sense based on word-accent, 95 f., ; 
irrational syllables in, 112f.; its 
rhythm not yet adequately ex- 
amined, 134; ambiguities in 


rhythm, 160; admits conflict 


between stressed accent and 
verse ictus, 163f.; why its rhythm 
is not recognized, 182 f. 

Enhoplii, Blass’s doctrine of, 184 ff. 

Epichoriambic, 223. 

Equality between feet, 242. 

“ Eurhythmy,” 202. 

Excerpta Neapol. on fu@uds, 48. 


Foor, more than one syllable ne- 
cessary for, 87; feet in ratio 1:3 
and 3:4, 209 ff. 


Guepitson, H., 3, 125, 155 f., 215. 

Glyconic, 212, 215, 219, 221, 225 ff. 

Goethe’s Heidenrdslein, in Schu- 
bert’s music, 22; in Reichardt’s, 
23. 

Goodell, T. D., 83 note. 

Gramophone records, 75, 87, 88. 


es ee ee 





Ae ee 


INDEX. 


HeEnprIckKson, G. L., 32, 159 ff. 

Hephaistion, does not treat of the 
letters, 16; on elegiac pentame- 
ter, 30; assumes different yévn 
in one meplodos, 200; on anti- 
spastic meters, 219 ff.; on other 
related meters, 223f.; his prin- 
ciple of analysis, 223; on Aoya- 
odind, 232f.; on dactyls among 
trochees, 235 f. ‘ 

Holmes, O. W., 94. 

Horace, 165, 199. 


Icrus, 156 ff. 
Irrational feet, 150f. (See ’AAoyfa.) 


JAN, C. v., 43. 


KawoezynskI, M., 15, 53, 156. 
Keats, J., 164 note. 
Kola, their extent, 144 ff. 


La Fares, J., 29 note. 

Lanier, S., 83 note. 

Letters, description of sounds of as 
part of metric, 15 ff. 

Lindsay, W. M., 167 note. 

Liszt, F., 133. 

Logacedic meters, 212-244. 

Longinos, makes all longs equal, 
all shorts equal, 16; on puéuds 
and pérpoy, 44; cites rhythms 
from animal and human life, 65. 

Lowell, J. R., on composition of 
“ Commemoration Ode,” 94. 


Matuvus THreoports, on “metra” 
and “rhythmi,” 45. 

Marius Victorinus, on metrici and 
musici, 6f.; follows traditional 
order of topics, 16; on elegiac 
pentameter, 30f.; his way of 
naming feet and of counting 
times, 41; on rhythmus and met- 
rum, 44, 46, 48, 49 f.; on onuetor, 
149; defines foot, 154 ; on heroic 
and dactylic verse, 185 f., 189 ff. ; 





249 


on meplodos Swdexdonuos, 190 ff.. 
218; on glyconic etc., 225 f., 227 
ff. ; on Aoyaoidind, 238 £. 

Mason, Wm., 133. 

Masqueray, P., 212, 215, 218, 

Mathematician, unconscious auto- 
matic, 29, 76, 


. Metrici, our proper attitude toward, 


27 ff. 42, 53 ff., 224. 

hérpov, earlier name for foot, 132. 

“ Metrum” in contrast with “ rhyth- 
mus,” 42-53. 

Middle spondee, in pentameter, 
32-42. 

Modulatio, see rAdcpa. 

povexpovoy, 136, 194, 195. 

Musician, ancient, needed no de- 
tailed theory of rhythm, 20f.; 
modern, analyzes and writes 
rhythm of verse, 81. 


OXxYRHYNCHOS papyrus, 108 note, 
136 f. 187, 194f., 210. 


ParKER, H. W., 204 note, 208 note. 

Parcemiac, 152 f. at 

Pentameter, elegiac, name old, 15, 
32 ; name natural, 37 f. ; described 
by Hephaistion, 80; described 
by Marius Vict., 30f., 35f.; 
by Aristides Q., 31; by Teren- 
tianus Maur., 35; by Augustine, 
86; acc. to Quintilian, 32ff.; 
strange scanning, 35, 38; perhaps 
read, later, with true middle 
spondee, 39-42. 

meplodos, two senses, 191 ff.; con- 
taining kola of different yévy, 199 
ff. > 213, 

mweplrAew, 176 ff. 

padralkeov, 219. 

Pherecratic, 219, 225 ff. 

Pindar, Nem. IX 1, 185. 

Tlivdapixdy, 200 f. 

wadoua, 50, 51, 77, 79, 81f., 129. 

Plato, refers to uerpixot for doctrine 
of sounds and syllables, 17; on 


250 INDEX. 


rhythm, 65; on évdwAos, 185, 
189. 

TlAatrwrvixdy, 200. 

Priapean, 220, 227 ff. 

Probus, 51. 

Prose, its rhythm, 89f.; why later 
than poetry, 92; and verse, 115 ff. 

Psychological Laboratory, Yale, 63 
note, 85 note. 


“QuantTITy in Eng. verse,” 83 note. 

Quintilian, on elegiac pentame- 
ter, 32ff.; on “rhythmi” and 
“metra,” 49. 


Rarr, J. J., 183. 

Reinach, T., 212. 

Rhythm, definitions, 58 f.; how re- 
lated to symmetry, 59 ff. ; need of 
repetition in, 60; rds essential, 
61f.; rhythm in nature, 62f.; 
inborn in all men, 64; remarks 
thereon by Aristotle, Plato, Aris- 
tides Q., Longinos, 65; various 
examples, 65 f.; Biicher’s study 
of rhythm in work, 67-72; rela- 
tion of words to rhythm in work- 
song, 69-72; rhythm in children’s 
play, 72-76; of modern verse 
analyzed and written by musi- 
cians, 22 f., 81; of nursery rimes, 
81; of Eng. poetry in general, 
82-86; in Eng. speech, 86-96; 
in Greek, 96-98, and chap. iv; 
practice requisite for analysis of, 
84-86; mechanical analysis of, 
84 f.; relation to pitch ratios, 84 ; 
Scripture’s experiments, 85 note ; 
of prose, 89f.; proper starting- 
point for study of, 92f.; artistic 
production of, 98-96 ; production 
of in Greek, 98; how far based 
on word-accent in English, 96; 
rest and motion in, 116-120, 124; 
in oratory, 126 ; dochmiac, 132 ff. 

Rhythmization, a shaping process 
100 ff. : 





Rhythmizing impulse, 21; how it 


deals with English, 86 ff.; how it. 


dealt with Greek, 96ff.; how 
it dealt with mixed kola, 240 ff. 

Rhythmizomenon, significance of, 
100 f. 

Rhythmopoiia, 104-109. 

“Rhythmus” in contrast with 
“ metrum,” 42-53, 

Ribot, T., 94. 

Rossbach, A., 8, 190 note, 195, 199, 
200, 201, 203 note, 236. 

Rossini, G., 204 note. 


SappHic,  nine-syllabled, 219; 
eleven-syllabled, 223, 228. 

Schmidt, J. H., 195, 203. 

Scholia, to Hephaiston, on metrici 
and rhythmici, 6; on éyvdrAuos, 
185, 188f.; on meplodos, 193; on 
division of the hexameter, 198. 

Scholia to Pindar, on mpocodiand, 
184, 196, 199. 

Schroeder, O., 196 and note. 

Schubert, F., 22. 

Schultz, G., 15, 32 ff., 156. 

“Science of Eng. Verse,” S. Lan- 
ier’s, 83 note. 

Scripture, E. W., 85 note, 87. 

Seikilos epitaph, 149, 244, 

onuacta, 135, 156 ff. . 

onmetoyv, onueia, 104 f., 134, 138 ff. 

Shelley, P. B., 164 note. 

Song, Greek, employed other time- 
ratios than 2: 1, 19; modern, 
adopting rhythm of spoken words, 
21 ff.,76 ff.,78 f.,80; popular Hun- 
garian, with shifting time, 133. 

Sophokles, O. T. 483-512, 166; 
El. 130ff., 190; Phil. 169-190, 
216 f.; his use of logacedic, 218. 

Speech-tune, 121ff.; passes into 
true melody, 128. 

Stolz, F., 167 note. 

Stress, in English and German, 96; 
in ancient Greek, 97, 158 ff.; in 
ancient and modern theory, 155 





2 “= " 1 ; ’ : x 4 : 
a Te re rd ee ee ee ee ee ee ee gi ee 


a Tae a a ae ee 


Se ha 


INDEX. 


ff, ; element in Latin word-accent, 
162 ff. ; does not always coincide 
with ictus in English, 163, 166. 

orpoyyiaos, 176 ff., 212. 

Suidas, 194. 

oivOero: wddes, 210. 

Susemihl, F., 15. 

Sweet, H., 87. 

Syllables, natural starting-point for 
metrical theory, 21, 27 ff.; mark 
smallest rhythmic times noted, 
87f.; their elasticity, 100, 112; 
common, long, short, 113-115. 

Symmetry, how related to rhythm, 
59 ff. ; in rhythmical composition, 
202. 


Tennyson, A., on English meter, 
25 note, 96; 160; 164 note. 

Terentianus Maur., on elegiac pen- 
tameter, 35; 187, 190 note. 

Theory of rhythm, not needed by 
Greek reader or singer, 14; nor 
by poet, 20-25. 

Thrasymachos of Chalkedon, 194. 





SSL 





AA\BRA Ry 
OF THE 

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\ OF 
SSSt!FO! 


251 


Time, changing in modern music, 
133, 204 note. 

rovnh, 80. 

Tralles inscription, 149, 244. 

Triseme, 136. 


Varro, definition of versus, 114. 

Verse and prose, 115 ff. 

Voice, in speaking and in singing, 
21, 29, 115 ff., 120ff., 129. 


Welt, H., on movement of voice, 
124; on glyconic, 215 ff. 

Westphal, R., 3, 54, 194, 203; his 
doctrine criticised, 103, 111 f. 115, 
128-125, 140, 144f,, 155, 170f€., 
177 f£., 205 ff. 

Word-accent, in Eng. rhythm, 71, 
75, 96, 163 f., 166; in Latin, con- 
tained stress as one element, 162 
f.; in Greek, disregarded in sing- 
ing, 168. 

Work-song, 68-72. 

turCuyia, 194, 195, 210. 

tdvOerot, see cvvero: and Aristides. 









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